


Sixteenth Night

by wreathoflaurels (laurathecookiemonster)



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Eventual Character Death, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-21 09:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 90,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4823819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurathecookiemonster/pseuds/wreathoflaurels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All it took was a single misstep, one accidental meeting, and everything was irrevocably changed for the Nanase clan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

When she was a little girl, she had gotten lost.

It was on a normal day early in the growing season, and she was young and had been seduced by the promise of sweet smelling plants and chirping birds, of gentle streams and of crawling, living, breathingthings. So she had dodged out from under her nursemaid's ever careful eyes, dropping her calligraphy in a fit of motion and hauling up the heavy silk of her skirts. She ran, her small feet thumping wildly against the wooden floors, her voice breaking into exhilarated laughter at her impending freedom.

In the forest outside of her home, there was beauty as far as her eyes could see – maples and cherry trees, bamboo, wildflowers too numerous to count – all of it felt as though it was especially made for  _her._ Izayoi dug her fingers into the earth until they were black and dirty, she ate berries and rolled into greenery and soaked it all in.

But as evening came, she realized she couldn't find her way home. She was frightened, hungry, listening to the howling of wild dogs in the distance and the cracks of nocturnal creatures who now woke up to feast. And still, somehow, she found light as it peeked through breaks in the trees, following it as though she was in a trance until she found a large tree to lay under, the ground beneath it carpeted in moss. There she slept until morning, safe and unbothered by the surrounding wildlife, and when morning came she realized that home was within a stone's throw. She walked out from the edge of the trees and returned to her normal life.

Her mother sobbed and gathered her into her arms, her father laughed with tears in his eyes, and her nursemaid reprimanded her until she was nearly hoarse. But Izayoi never quite forgot how those woods had protected her, how they had been full to bursting with beauty and life. Spiritual to her core and all at once imbued with a sense for magic and the mysterious, she knew quite well that the forest wanted her to return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edit as of 6/12/2016: this fanfic is practically my CHILD and deserves better writing than what I could give it a year ago.
> 
> In any case, I have always loved Izayoi, despite the fact that we know next to nothing abut her. I guess I just find it pretty much endlessly fascinating that she not only 1: fell in love with and then married a LITERAL DEMON but that she also 2: had his baby and then 3: raised their little social outcast, half-breed child completely alone after his death. So yes, this fanfiction is about her and the Inu no Taisho falling in love, but really, it's an extended character analysis... or at least, my version of her character.)


	2. Chapter 1

The trees were halfway destroyed when she snuck out, one afternoon in high summer. She could see that they'd been cracked in places, the bark fraying as though something massive had barreled through. Stranger still were the bits of pure white fluff stuck in the branches, like snow, and the violet scales that littered the ground. It appeared as though some large animals had been fighting - but she could tell from the way her spine prickled and the hairs on her arms stood that something else was at work, something stranger and infinitely more curious. Izayoi also thought that perhaps she should have turned from the trail before her, gone back out through the thin bamboo edges of the forest and into the safety of her family's mansion. And yet the trail of broken trees, glistening scales, and long white fur called her along, begging her to follow it and reach its end.

She crept along, quiet except for the sound of her own breathing as it grew more excited and frantic, on edge as she listened intently for hints of activity. Finally, after what felt like nearly hours to her, she heard a sound that was distinct against the chatter of little creatures and waving greenery – there were two voices, both male. Izayoi wondered if they were hunters; that was strictly forbidden in the Nanase's forest, as all the game and life inside of it belonged to her family and Izayoi had seen people punished for poaching as little as a pheasant before. Then there was the issue of dealing with them, if they were: they'd be armed with bows and spears and likely much bigger and stronger than her. She was only a young woman of seventeen, small and unimposing in stature. All she carried with her was a little bound book of papers, scrawled in with drawings of plants and messy notes to herself. Still, against all better judgement, and perhaps drawn by the twisting feeling of both dread and excitement in her gut, she moved a little closer. They were not hunters. They were not even _men._

They were _yokai_.

And these were not low level demons, not snarling pig monsters or shrill, harpy women. They were _daiyokai_ , great demons who ruled over all the others in power, strength, and intelligence. Their human forms were impressive and terrible, thrillingly beautiful and oozing with danger. She pinched the thin skin of her wrist to make sure she wasn't dreaming, and when the pain was very real, she stilled completely. Her little book of notes slipped from her suddenly clammy fingers and landed on the ground with a soft thud. In an instant, two pairs of inhuman eyes had turned sharply towards her.

She panicked, and hid behind the thick trunk of an old maple tree. Her legs had gone numb, heavy like lead weights, her muscles frozen stiff. She longed to run, but she was pinned in place by fear – there was no way that she could outrun them if they decided to hunt her down, but staying in place was almost certainly a death sentence. There was nothing she could do besides hope that they'd show her a scrap of mercy and let her go on her way.

"You only wish you could stop me," she heard one voice say, silken and bored. "As though you aren't too soft and gentle to finish the job here and now, silly pup."

"I've slain far more powerful enemies, Ryukotsusei. You wouldn't be any different," answered the other.

"Ah, but so near a human dwelling? I wonder if you have the heart to."

Izayoi began to tremble. She wondered if her family would be safe, if the village that they were lords over would be spared.

"Don't test me."

"Have I touched a nerve? Worried I may kill them, are you?"

Confused, she poked her head around the trunk to peer at them, just for a quick look. Each yokai was a sight to behold. One was more serpentine than man, as though he was holding on to a human form just by the very fringes of his power. Energy seemed to tremble around his form, like invisible flames, the kind of shimmering one might see on a hot day. His flesh was as pale as a cloud, deep purple stripes running the length of his face, up and down. But most unnervingly, his eyes were a bloody shade of crimson, the pupils no more than black slits, contracted warningly as he sized up his companion.

The second one was decidedly more human in appearance, even if that wasn't saying much. He was incredibly tall, back straight despite the fact that he was weighted with rather fierce looking armor and a pelt of thick, cream colored fur. His face may have even been handsome if it weren't contorted in hate, his lips raised and sneering, revealing a set of sharp ivory fangs.

"Watch it, Ryukotsusei," he replied, his clawed hand twitching towards the blade strapped to his back.

She felt her forehead prickle with sweat. Now she was definitely convinced that she was going to die, by the hand of whichever one of these demons decided to kill her first. Why had they not threatened her directly yet? She knew she'd been seen, so it couldn't be an accident that she hadn't been acknowledged by either of them.

Almost as if cued, the one called Ryukotsusei turned his head and stared directly at her. Izayoi ducked her head back behind the tree, cursing herself for her curiosity and mentally preparing to be torn apart limb from limb.

"Did you hear, human girl? This one won't even protect what is his for fear of offending you."

Izayoi held her breath.

"I know you're there."

Tears stung at her eyes, but she still didn't speak.

"Come out, dear, let us have a look."

"My patience has run out," the other one snarled at Ryukotsusei. The sound of metal scraping was not lost on her, his sword sliding against the sheathe in a threat.

Her breath caught heavily in her throat. Was he supposed to be protecting her? Or did he intend to have his way with her after he deposed of his rival? She felt a good deal like an unwanted pest, some insect caught on its backside, struggling to right itself while two people argued whether to crush it or just take it outside.

" _Inu no Taisho_ ," Ryukotsusei flourished mockingly, a wretched hissing sound, "rest assured that I will be returning. I do so look forward to our next meeting."

There was a great crunching noise and the ground shook tremendously. Above her head she saw the sleek scales of a purple dragon slipping out of the forest canopy, before disappearing completely into the clouded sky. Her legs shook and she collapsed against the tree bark, her skirts crushed in her fists and her hair plastered to her forehead. And then she heard footsteps, a heavy tread, the sound of metal clanking as certain doom approached her.

She shakily stood back up, ready to run as fast as she could. Izayoi knew she had no hope of outrunning him, but she was certainly doomedif she didn't at least try. Before she could move, though, his voice pinned her in place against the trunk.

"Human?"

"Yes?" she answered back, weakly, gaze averted from him though he was nearly in front of her.

"Leave. Under no circumstances are you to return," he said, the tone commanding and practiced. It was strange how it reverberated through her, how she felt both afraid and comforted by it. She finally looked up from her wringing hands and met his eyes.

Izayoi grasped dumbly for words, anything at all, but all that came out was a weak stutter. He gave her a hard look, waiting for her to either speak or leave, and when she didn't do either he actually _growled_ at her.

Startled out of her shock, she only responded by stumbling forwards a few steps and fleeing as fast as her legs could carry her. Once or twice she was sure she tripped, scraping her hands and knees as she came down, but it all felt blurry and disorienting to her. She was breathless as she stumbled in through the back gates. All around her the guards were yelling for help, that the princess looked as though she'd been hurt - and then the lack of oxygen finally caught up with her, hitting her tired brain, and the world went black.

o0o

"You could have been snatched by bandits! You foolish girl!"

Izayoi was used to being yelled at, but for once she was forced to admit that her father was right. She could have _died._

"–too old for this, daughter, entirely too old. Other women your age are married with children, and here you are collecting wildflowers in the wilderness without even a servant to keep you company! How many times do I have to explain this to you? You _must_ take a sentry with you when you go out into the forest! I've been happy to indulge your little habits, and yet you disobey my only rule. Why are you so set on testing my good will?"

She kept her head low, stare trained on the dirt beneath her fingernails and the black hair pooled at her knees. There was no other way to deal with her father when he got this worked up and flew into one of his pointless little tirades. Had Izayoi been in his place, she's sure she would have been outraged too - she'd left home in the middle of the day while she was supposed to be devoting herself to the koto, and then come back sweaty and red from exertion, adorned in a stolen and now filthy servant's yukata, eyes giant with fear before passing out in the back gardens. As the lord of the mansion and certainly as her father he had every right to scream at her until he was hoarse in the throat. Izayoi even considered briefly that she was a bit lucky that he'd never been the sort to use physical discipline, because now would certainly be the time for it – but he'd never hit her, and though he gesticulated wildly, she was never worried that a blow would land on _her._ Her father was the sort who was all sting without venom. By dinnertime he'd likely be cooled down and perhaps even in a good mood again, all smiles and gentleness once more.

"I'm sorry, chichi-ue," she offered as soon as she heard a break in his rant.

"Not sorry enough to behave! I wash my hands of this mess, _"_ he announced, looking down to his wife where she knelt in flawless form on their little raised platform. "You may speak with her, see if you have any more luck."

She nodded, giving him a raised eyebrow as he rose and left the room with an air of supreme annoyance and superiority. He paused only long enough to throw a scathing look at his daughter, but Izayoi was unconvinced by his show of authority and so it was promptly ignored.

"Daughter."

Izayoi glanced upwards, finally relaxing her spine a little and loosening her expression. Her mother was looking at her a bit sadly, disappointment in her nut brown eyes and written into the fine features of her face.

"Haha-ue?"

"Why do you not value your life? _Our_ lives? Have I not taught you your worth?" she said gently, arms falling limp to her sides. "All we have left in the world is you, my child. The Nanase clan absolutely cannot afford your loss."

"I'm so sorry, haha-ue," Izayoi said gently.

The lady of the house shifted from her place, coming down to the floor to kneel before her daughter, and in a gesture of affection and easy forgiveness, took her into her frail little arms and rested her chin on her child's crown. She petted the top of Izayoi's head, combing her slender fingers through her hair.

"Do not return to the forest," she sighed, both pleading and ordering at the same time.

"I won't," Izayoi promised, voice muffled against her mother's chest.

It wasn't an unfamiliar scene. She would be yelled at and forgiven, and she would play at being a good daughter for a few days out of respect for her parents, but the result was always the same. This routine had been unchanged for years now.

The Nanase clan wasn't really much of a _clan_ , in any case. They'd been quite wealthy once, hundreds of years ago, but the uprising of the shogunate had left them unstable and fractured. On top of that, a few generations of unsuccessful marriages and badly mismanaged funds later, and all they were left with was an old mansion in an isolated forest, a tiny village of peasants who paid their dues but could barely feed themselves, and a single, errant princess with no brothers or sisters to shoulder some of the burden. This was Izayoi's justification for doing as she liked; the clan was going to die whether she behaved or not _._ Though she loved her mother and father dearly, she couldn't find it in herself to pay their warnings much heed.

This time, she obeyed dutifully for a total of seven days. Fear was a strong captor; it held her to her home and she stayed put for the entire week without wandering. She wasn't in any hurry to meet either of those two yokai again, because she had the nagging feeling that they wouldn't spare her a second time. But eventually her fear wore off, and after those seven days had passed, she managed to convince herself that the danger had lessened. She loved that forest, and she was bitterly irked - it didn't belong to them alone, did it? Why should she be intimidated out of taking her fair share of it?

More importantly, she'd lost her papers the day she'd run into the demons and though the whole notebook was likely ruined, she had to at least look for it. Izayoi had a bit of an elaborate fantasy about running away and becoming a miko when the family coffers finally ran totally dry, and so she'd spent years studying plants for their medicinal qualities. She'd written down every scrap of information she knew, drawn pictures of each species and every variety she could find, and so if her book was lost then so too was most of that knowledge. She couldn't bear to think of starting over from scratch.

Against all forewarning she returned, drawn back like a hapless moth to a flame.

Besides, it felt especially thrilling to tempt fate – there was a thread of danger, a pleasant kind of edge in her veins that made her feel awake and alive and put a tingle in her toes and fingertips. Despite her parents' concern and annoyance, she figured that as long as she returned home safely there couldn't be any real harm in her explorations. She kept herself alert at first, just as she stayed close to the thin outer ring of trees near her home – but after one or two hours with no sign of the pair of battling yokai, she figured it was safe to continue deeper into the woods. The book had yet to materialize, but she knew that if she returned to the spot where she thought she'd lost it, there might be a chance that it was still there.

Her hunch had been correct, of course. She was delighted when she saw it, despite it being wrinkled and half the pages ruined and wet from dew. A quick flip through it revealed that though the ink had been desolved by moisture, the charcoal was undamaged. She was so caught up in her own personal celebration that she didn't notice a single thing out of the ordinary, no strange auras, no feelings of doom or of mystery as she had only a week before. Izayoi simply knelt on the ground, picked it up and flipped through its pages, lost in the contents and feeling as though risk had been well worth it.

"Woman," a familiar voice rumbled suddenly, "what are you doing here?"

All the fear that had eroded with time and distance came flying back into her heart with a vengeance. Her eyes flew wide open and she glanced up as soon as she realized who was speaking, but the moment she saw his face she felt compelled to look away. Immediately, her head dropped in respect and she leaned towards the ground, nearly touching it with her forehead, palms flat against the earth.

"I was only... I just... what I mean is, I.." she tried lamely, unable to speak.

"You seem rather small to involve yourself in the affairs of daiyokai."

"I don't really want to be involved with the affairs of daiyokai," she admitted quietly, "it's just my luck." For a moment she thought her hearing was failing, because she could have sworn she heard a tiny snort of laughter.

"You don't get the luxury of telling me what you do or don't want, now," he told her. "I told you not to return, and you have. You have no choice but to face me."

He came closer to where she knelt in prostrate. Her hands contracted into tight fists, her eyes squeezed shut, head still cast towards the ground. Her heart was racing so fast she feared it would rupture. He crouched in front of her; she could see his feet in front of her face. She'd never heard of a demon lowering itself to the same level as a human before, especially not one of his stature.

"You don't understand how much danger you're in, do you?"

Izayoi squeaked, shaking her head. Her hair formed a blessed curtain around her burning face, even as she lifted and straightened her back. Izayoi braved another quick look at his face and not his feet, just for a second. She felt a little jolt of surprise, since he looked very different to her upon second observation. Before he'd seemed much more frightening to look at, more fangy and sharp. Despite his warnings, something in his expression was softer to her now, open and almost pleasant. He was certainly not terrible to look at, sort of hypnotizing the way a storm might be; it was dangerous to expose yourself to it for too long, but all the same you longed to go out and be hit by the force of the winds, the rain, the thunder.

Still, she hadn't forgotten that he was a demon.

"Are you... are you going to eat me?" she managed, past her dry throat and lips.

He laughed at her, driving her humiliation even deeper.

"Oh, no. Not _me_ , but there are plenty of things in this forest who might like a taste," he told her, voice unnervingly gentle. "Do you want to live, little woman?"

She nodded fiercely.

"Ah, come then."

Before she was fully aware of what was happening, she saw his hand extended into her field of vision. She risked yet another glance at his face; his eyes met hers for only a second before they darted away to scan the trees. She'd never seen gold so pure in her life, not even in the homes of her wealthier aunts and uncles and cousins – it shifted and shimmered, lively and rich. He suddenly pulled her up so that she was standing next to him, and she wavered.

"If you follow me, then no harm will come to you," he assured. Izayoi almost laughed; it didn't matter if she followed him or stayed in place. If his mind was made up to harm or kill her, then being contrary for the sake of it wouldn't change anything.

Hesitantly, she began to follow his steps. He was leading her back to the edge of the forest, to the back gates of the Nanase mansion.

"Are you taking me home?"

He looked down at her, apparently amused. His lips twisted into a rather bizarre smile, one that reminded her suddenly of a wild animal.

"You likely wouldn't make it back otherwise."

"Is that... are you threatening me?"

"What a talkative one you are! And curious too, aren't you?"

"I have a lot to be curious about," she retorted, stumbling to keep up with the long strides of his legs. "You and some... other demon just _appeared_ in my family's forest without warning, and you expect me to just take it unquestioned?"

"That's fair. Maybe this will satisfy you? Ryukotsusei is an old enemy of mine, who loves nothing more in this world than getting on my nerves. He's under the very false impression that he can just do whatever he pleases without any kind of consequence. I told him," he paused for a second, eyes again darting around the forest, scanning the tree line, "that he's not to harm any of the humans he finds. Knowing that old bastard, he's going to try to kill you and the others, just to see if he can get a rise out of me."

"What a terrible idea," Izayoi murmured, knowingly. "You keep talking about us like we belong to you or something. Have you named yourself the protector of these lands, or is going out of your way for humans you don't know something you just do for fun?"

"You are _very_ astute, little woman."

She felt her face heat again. It felt awkward that he called her 'little woman', as though he was simply reassuring her of her insignificance.

"Please don't patronize me," she whispered. His grip on her wrist tightened painfully.

"I don't mean to."

"Then _don't_."

The back wall of the mansion was within view now. She felt weird and conflicted about their inevitable parting. He simultaneously frightened and fascinated her, both as a demon and as a person. There was something strangely human about him, but not quite human enough for her to feel entirely safe. It was hard to place.

While her head spun, he stopped walking. The courtyard was only a few small steps away.

"I have to ask," he said, shaking her out of her thoughts, "what possessed you to return to the forest? No other creature would have dared, not after what you saw."

She shrugged lightly, and rubbed her now sore wrist.

"I just wanted my notes back. Besides, it's _my_ forest, not yours, so it's not as if you get to tell me to leave and never come back."

"' _Your_ ' forest? Are you always this way?" he chastised. She immediately bristled at his tone.

"I told you already, you don't need to patronize me. I'm not a child."

"Forgive me."

Izayoi huffed, feeling frustrated. Clearly this conversation wasn't going anywhere; he was already turning to leave when she realized she couldn't stand to let him have the last word.

"Will I see you again?"

The yokai looked mildly surprised, then contemplative.

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps? Is that all?"

"By heavens, little woman, you are the bossiest creature I've met in a long time."

 _That_ didn't sit well. She clenched her fists by her sides.

"I only want you to give me a straight answer," she replied, voice raising in pitch as she spoke, getting shriller by the moment, "it's not every day that I get to make conversation with a daiyokai! And stop calling me 'little woman', it's rude and humiliating."

He laughed, which only worsened her condition.

"Stop it!" she cried indignantly, flustered and embarrassed and angry all at once. 

"What should I call you? You must have a name," he finally said, only a hint of his previous mirth seeping through.

"I'm called Nanase Izayoi. Just Izayoi is fine," she said sternly, before straightening her back and schooling her expression. "I'm the princess of this estate, which may not be anything to you, but among humans I command a great deal of respect."

"Why would a princess be alone in a forest?"

It was a good question. She pressed her lips into a thin line, considering.

"I like the forest," she finally said, "it feels more like home to me than anywhere else in the world."

"That's all well and good, but I really must ask you to obey me, even just this once. These woods are not safe anymore, and it would be incredibly foolish for you to risk returning," he explained. The appearance of amusement that he'd had earlier was completely gone now. He looked dead serious, his tone taking on the commanding edge he'd had when she'd first seen him.

"I... I suppose."

"Your life would be in danger. Your family's as well," he continued, "Ryukotsusei is not to be taken lightly by humans."

"I understand."

"You hesitate."

Izayoi shifted under his gaze, then sighed deeply. It was a mystery to her that he was able to read her so easily… or maybe it was simply that she was just more transparent in her plans than she realized.

"Izayoi."

"Hm?"

"I'm not to be taken lightly, either."

She felt dread rising back up from its depths, the weight of his words hitting her with their full impact. He meant that she was in his way; that despite his amusement and apparent kindness, he was still not someone to be trifled with or ignored. Whatever urge he had to protect her individually could be outweighed if she ever hindered him again. And still she felt that she couldn't give up so easily, and so she barreled right on without missing a single beat.

"I see. I can't promise you that I won't come back, or at least not honestly" she sighed. He scowled but continued to listen to her. "This journal is more important to me than you know. I've spent years filling it out with drawings of plants and all sorts of information, and now because of your disputes I have to go through it and redo nearly a year's worth of work."

"You care for it that deeply?"

"This is one of the few things I can decide for myself. I suppose it's childish for me to guard this habit of mine so jealously, but I've been preparing myself for a time when I might need the knowledge."

Now _he_ was curious; he uneasily shifted towards her, one eyebrow quirked. She took it as a sign that she should continue.

"My situation is precarious. I'm a princess now, but I have no idea whether or not I'll be able to live in such comfort in the future. It would be stupid of me not to have a backup plan, would it not? Besides, this is one of the few things I'm really any good at. Doesn't it seem unfair that you'd ask me to give up my only chance of a livelihood for someone I've only just met?"

"I was under the impression that princesses are regularly asked to give things up, especially when the wellbeing of their family is involved."

"Are you… are you calling me selfish?"

"I said no such thing, you came to that conclusion all on your own," he retorted neatly. "In any case, it does sound incredibly selfish to me that you would put you and this entire region in grave danger all because you don't want to give up a hobby of yours."

"It's not a hobby!" she snapped, balling her fists at her sides, temper already rising to its earlier pitch. "If I'm left without a husband and a fortune then I'm as good as dead anyway, and since there's nothing to my family name and nobody clamoring to marry me the only thing that's left for a woman of my position is the life of a miko! And I can't very well do that if I don't know anything about medicinal plants, can I, so I very desperately need this book and everything that's inside of it!"

If he was affected at all by her little tirade, he didn't show it. It was almost like he hadn't even heard her speaking.

"Whatever your reasons are -and I'm sure you have plenty- Ryukotsusei wouldn't pay them any mind. He'd kill you for being a princess as soon as he'd kill you for being a miko. It doesn't make a difference."

"I should have known you wouldn't understand."

Something flashed in his eyes, fiery hot. Suddenly she felt very, very small, as he drew his spine up straight and towered over her with his full height. He was taller than any human man she'd ever seen in her life.

"I understand completely," he told her, "that you are young and soft. You wouldn't even begin to know the kind of danger that you are throwing yourself into, even just by keeping me here longer than necessary. It's only out of respect for you and your kind that I didn't slaughter that impudent little serpent where he stood."

"…what does that mean?" she asked, much more quietly.

"The collateral damage would have wiped out your clan's home and all of the villages surrounding it. It may have escaped your notice, princess, but Ryukotsusei is a dragon, and they are not known for their gentle natures."

Suddenly she recalled the damage she'd _already_ seen, the trail of broken trees, thick maples and oaks snapped in two like they were twigs. Their tussle had not even been a fatal one. She thought about the crushed forest floor, the violet scales, and the fur…

"Inu no Taisho," she whispered under her breath, realizing all at once exactly what he was. "That's what he called you, isn't it?"

"Yes."

 _The leader of the dogs_ , _the general_. She'd heard of him in stories before; a massive, white dog-demon who prowled all over the western lands. He was rumored to have brought down all sorts of other yokai, entire armies of them, nearly single-handedly. She just hadn't put the two things together until this moment.

"Why would someone so powerful care this much about the lives of humans?"

His lips pulled back a little over his fangs again, like he was baring them, but it didn't appear unfriendly. It was more like he was showing them to her.

"I'm not a common dog," he explained, "but there are some traits that even inuyokai can't shake."

"You want to protect us, then."

"Exactly."

"You just… shouldn't concern yourself so much with me," she said, gently. "Ryukotsusei loses his leverage over you if you simply stop caring, doesn't he?"

"You misunderstand the situation terribly. He'd likely kill you anyway."

"So there's… no solution to this problem, is that what you mean?"

"There is," he grumbled, "if you would just listen to me and promise not to come back here, where you make it so _easy_ for him to pick you off."

Once again, Izayoi steeled herself. She folded her arms neatly over her chest, lifting her head high and leveling him with the most elegant, defiant expression she could possibly manage. It seemed that he understood her message quite well, for he heaved a deep, resigned sigh and closed his eyes. Any moment she expected him to start rubbing his temples in frustration.

"Here's what I will… propose, then. If you can put off your stubbornness for a little longer, I will return within a week. There may be a solution that satisfies everyone."

She felt a jolt of excitement and pride run through her. Her first, stumbling attempts at diplomacy had worked somehow, and because of it she would be getting exactly what she wanted. Izayoi felt immensely clever for it, and perhaps it was because of this that she decided to finally show some deference to the yokai before her.

"I can promise from the depths of my heart that I will follow your directions, until then."

"Good," he said, "At last, I've appeased you."

Izayoi nodded. "In a week?"

He tipped his chin in affirmation, before he turned sharply and disappeared like a ghost back into the trees. He gave no farewell, no means of contact, no last instructions. It seemed likely that he was exhausted by the conversation; she only knew this because she slumped a little as soon as she felt sure he was gone, like she hadn't slept in days. He was dangerous and inhumanly strong, but he was also as hard-headed as she was and had a kind of wittiness about him that made it surprisingly difficult for her to keep up. And now that the adrenaline had left her veins, Izayoi's muscles ached with tiredness.

Yet she was satisfied, even optimistic. It was quite an accomplishment to make a deal with a demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edit as of 7/17/2016:
> 
> Some notes! I try not to use gratuitous Japanese, when possible, but there are just some words that imo don't translate very well or just sound a lot prettier in their original version... or I'm using both to avoid being SUPER repetitive. Anyway, on the off chance that you haven't read a billion other fanfics in this fandom, here are the translations-
> 
> Yokai: demon  
> Daiyokai: great demon (or large demon)  
> Inuyokai: dog demon  
> Chichi-ue: very old, respecftul term for father, to the effect of "honorable father"  
> Haha-ue: like chichi-ue, but means mother instead  
> Shogunate: basically the samurai uprising against the emperor. This happened during the Kamakura Era (1185-1333).
> 
> On that note... the third movie and manga are at odds as to when Inuyasha was actually born, so thinking about it too much will only make your head hurt. I've decided to use bits and pieces of movie 3 canon, since it's really the only source of info on his parents. However I'm not using his age from that movie, which puts him at like 200+ years old. So this fic takes place sometime around the mid to late 1400s! Like I said. Don't think about it too much. It will only hurt you.
> 
> And finally, for those of you who are a source obsessed with weird character details as I am: the average Japanese man during that time was maybe around 5'8''... and on the Inuyasha wiki, Inu no Taisho is listed at about 6'3''. Meanwhile, Izayoi is listed as 5'4''. Holy Height Differences, Batman)


	3. Chapter 2

No one had actually _seen_ her speaking to the Inu no Taisho, fortunately, but almost overnight it became common knowledge that something dangerous was lurking around the forest and stalking its edges. Nobody could seem to stop talking about all of the rumors they'd heard, of demons in one region and then in the next, which made Izayoi feel fidgety. She found herself wandering the halls, looking for something to distract her from her inevitable third meeting with the daiyokai, but very little seemed to catch her attention for long.

Though at first she had been overjoyed by her cleverness in convincing him to meet her again, when she looked back on it she wondered if she'd made a mistake. Izayoi spent most of her free time second-guessing his intentions; she'd taken his word at face value, and assumed he had been telling nothing but the honest truth when he said he valued human life. It was entirely possible that he had been deceiving her, and that perhaps she should have been more suspicious of _any_ demon's intentions. To make matters worse, whenever she thought she'd found a moment's peace, his promise to return flashed through her mind and she became suddenly anxious. It was so bad that her hands shook, and at least one drawing came out looking muddled beyond recognition. Izayoi set down her brush and sighed, staring morosely at the pages in front of her, sad and blank and recording her absolute lack of focus very, very clearly. Behind her, two young handmaidens were kneeling and pretending to keep her company.

"A mononoke," one lady in waiting was whispering to another, "they say he's very powerful. I wonder what he wants with us here?"

"The great dog demon of the western lands," came the quiet response. "He's more merciful to humans than most daiyokai, I've heard, but I can't fathom his reasons for staying in the region."

"Maybe he means to come speak with the clan lords?"

"Why would he want to get involved with the Nanase clan? They're not high ranking at all!"

Izayoi turned to look at them, sternly, and they scattered apart from each other like startled birds. But she could hear one of them whisper before they stopped talking completely:

"Best not to bring it up in front of the princess. She might become frightened."

Clearly, they had no idea what she had seen with her very own eyes.

o0o

It wasn't long before the rumors were finally confirmed - the Inu no Taisho was in their lands. The idea that he'd been stalking it somehow was rather preposterous in hindsight, since he'd never actually made any attempt at secrecy in the first place. In fact, he'd already been said to arrive at other daimyo's castles, as though he was unaware that he was not wanted. He must have known better than that, though, because he was also rumored to arrive fully decked out in armor, that massive and terrifying looking sword hanging off his back. By the time word had trickled down to the Nanases, people were embellishing upon his appearance: he was three meters tall, looked nothing like a human, and spoke only in growls. Izayoi wouldn't correct anyone and certainly _couldn't_ , but she found it a little amusing nonetheless. Yes, he was intimidating, but he definitely wasn't monstrous.

Eventually, everyone had put all the pieces together and deduced that he would be coming to _them_ next. The mansion was thick with tension and full of fear; her father was restless and as a result Izayoi was given twice as many reprimands as usual. It got to the point where Izayoi just avoided him altogether; even on her best behavior, nothing escaped her father's eyes while he was worked into this frenzied state. Her mother was not much better – though she was a serene woman by nature of her breeding and upbringing, everything she did was touched with nervousness, from the way her hand shook as she held her brush for calligraphy to the incorrect notes as she played her shamisen. None of them spoke to each other about their shared fears, instead choosing to endure it in relative silence and wait for the inevitable.

He arrived on the evening of the full moon. It was like time itself stood still, the wind going dead and the chirps of crickets and night-birds suddenly quieting in his presence. Izayoi wondered if the old wives' tales about demonic auras and things had all been true, because she most certainly felt something run up her spine and raise the hairs on the back of her neck. She wasn't really supposed to be peeping from the courtyard, but as he walked through their front gates and onto her family's estate she found her eyes glued to him.

The Inu no Taisho had come unattended, a sign of his confidence - he clearly knew they were by no means powerful enough to challenge his strength. The moonlight hit his face and armor and gleamed, as though he was at the very crest of all the world's power. Izayoi was ushered off to the women's wing of the mansion and was told explicitly not to come out unless she was asked directly to.

"I've heard of demons taking young women for their brides, or even as mistresses," her mother warned, "I wouldn't dare let him lay eyes on you."

"I don't think a powerful daiyokai would want a human woman, mother," Izayoi argued pointlessly. She knew that since he'd already laid eyes on her and hadn't taken her then, she was probably safe, but she didn't think that her mother would be pleased if she knew they had met before. So she agreed to wait the visit out, and a little troupe of young handmaidens were assigned to her to keep her company and distract her into staying still. But, as always, she was miserable being hidden away. Eventually she was overwhelmed by boredom and a ferociously burning curiosity, and so she felt there was no other choice but to sneak away.

"If he _really_ wanted to kill me, hiding in here would do me no good!" she laughed, as the young women fretted and whispered fiercely for her to come back before the Lord and Lady caught wind of her disobedience. "Besides, I only want a peek. Maybe a quick listen."

"Miss, please!"

"I'll be back before anyone realizes I'm not in my place! I promise you won't get in trouble!"

She hurried through the polished wooden halls to the meeting room, silent and excited. A sliver of light came in from between the wooden beams in the paper wall and bathed her in its glow. Calming herself, she leaned in and listened, and tried to see what she could.

"...we have nothing to offer," her father's voice floated, sounding light and practiced from years of dealing with stressful situations, yet strained to her knowing ears.

"I haven't come to ask for anything. I'm simply familiarizing myself with the territory."

Her mother said something under her breath, not loud enough for Izayoi to hear, but the daiyokai laughed. It was a strange sound, low, amused, but still somehow aloof.

"Yes, you may call me impudent if you'd like. Saigoku's been under my watch for longer than either of you have been alive. You humans have divided this area rather arbitrarily into little family clans, but it doesn't change the fact that I protect it."

"'Protect?'" her father repeated, dubious. "You mean to tell me that you're _protecting_ us? From what, exactly?"

"Yes, I am protecting you, even if you've decided to be ungrateful for it. It should please you to know that I've already begun doing that job for you; your own daughter saw it fit to go traipsing about in the forest and nearly got herself killed. I saw to it that she was unharmed."

"No such thing!" her mother cried, but then quieted.

Izayoi cursed internally. She'd been hoping that they weren't going to find out about her latest excursion to the forest  _or_ her prior meetings with the Inu no Taisho. It must have been payback for her stubbornness before, and since she couldn't imagine any other good reason to tell her parents where he had found her, she almost wondered if he derived some kind of pleasure from causing her grief.

"What proof do you have?"

The demon heaved a great sigh, eyes sliding shut for a moment and ignoring her father's accusation. When they opened again, they were pointed straight at the door, right where she was waiting. She shrunk back like she'd been burned, trying to slink away unnoticed, but then she heard his voice calling out to her:

"Princess, why don't you tell them?"

"Izayoi? Are you there?" Lord Nanase asked, sort of timidly.

She considered evaporating or perhaps playing dead, but if the demon could tell that she was hidden outside of the meeting room he could almost certainly track her down and drag her right back to face her parents. It would be better to just admit defeat now, seeing as she didn't particularly fancy being manhandled by him. Gently, she slid the door open, eyes downcast and face burning hot with embarrassment.

"What did we tell you," her mother hissed at her, but there was real fear in her eyes. It wasn't just a simple matter of disobedience; they were genuinely afraid for her, and even if she had felt that there wasn't any real danger, how could they possibly have known? Having a demon for an acquaintance was deeply unorthodox, seeing as they were mostly supposed to either trick you or kill you.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, and then turned her attention to the Inu no Taisho. It had been only days since she'd seen him last, yet she was struck by him as though she was meeting him for the first time all over again. A strange bolt of excitement and nerves rushed up the length of her spine, but she kept herself in check, standing tall and straight but keeping her head low in respect.

"Izayoi," he said - not exactly softly, but not in the authoritative way he had spoken to her before, "have you been well?"

"...yes, Inu no Taisho."

Her parents must have been scandalized, and she heard it in the little gasp that rose from their seats. The familiar way in which they spoke to each other was proof that they'd met, whether Izayoi was willing to admit it or not. At this point, with no more denying her involvement, the best she could do was try to be graceful and take her punishment without a word.

"I'm glad," he said, before turning back to her parents. "She's safe, see? The reason that I'm here isn't to frighten you, but to help you understand the very… unique position that your clan is in."

"What is that?" her father questioned, his defenses falling ever so slightly. For a demon, the Inu no Taisho had a certain sense of charisma about him, and it was working on the lord of the house.

"You are on the border of newly acquired territory, between myself and another daiyokai. It didn't come to me easily, and it will not be maintained easily - at least not for a while. This particular region is especially vulnerable at the moment. I would urge you not to spend unnecessary time away from your homes. I would also encourage your subjects to do the same."

"By the gods," her mother breathed, while her father looked slightly skeptical about the information he'd been given.

"What might happen if we were to venture away for too long, I must ask?"

"Death. This enemy of mine will not hesitate to kill you if he believes it will challenge me."

"You care for humans?"

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. His words were still deathly serious. "It would make me unhappy to see you and your village slain for this. My wars are not yours to fight. It would not be honorable to allow innocents to become casualties or hostages, if it can be avoided."

"I've never heard of a yokai concerned with honor," her father blurted, but schooled his posture quickly back into one of respect.

"It doesn't matter what you've heard or what you believe; it will come to pass all the same. You should at least have the benefit of forewarning."

Izayoi stood in silence, feeling very much forgotten about. Not that she would complain, but she was awestruck the same way her parents were. He claimed to be their _protector_ , as though his concern was more than a surface matter of being honorable or not. Stranger still, he would fight on their behalf - she could barely believe any of it, and she'd even had the benefit of seeing Ryukotsusei for herself. Her parents were meant to believe it on faith alone.

Just as it seemed it she might be able to escape his scrutiny, he turned his eyes back to her. They were not dangerous, or predatory, or even really terribly _demonic_ , but she felt nervous all the same.

"Izayoi."

"Yes?"

"Stay close to home. I don't want to catch you out alone again."

It felt like she was awash with shame for the millionth time, though it was also equal parts annoyance - he seemed to have the ability to embarrass her in just about any circumstance. Her gaze slid to her mother and father, who looked to her as though they expected her to explain this all to them. She felt as though this whole mess was her doing; somehow, she had invited the daiyokai and his wars onto their land, even though the reality of it was that she was an unlucky observer who'd been caught in the crossfire. For a moment she hedged, before giving a reply that was not too committal but to her parents might sound like obedience instead of lying by omission.

"You won't."

The Inu no Taisho didn't seem content with her answer at all, but he didn't press her any further. He bowed his head to her parents, the sign of respect utterly useless in this context. Izayoi knew that everyone was tense and afraid and angry. The worst was yet to come, she suspected.

"Take care, then."

In a fluid movement, he turned and was gone, leaving them bewildered in his wake. They all remained silent, apparently mystified for a few moments. Her father was the first to speak.

"Izayoi," he began, voice calm at first but rising in pitch as he went on, "what in all the _heavens_ have you brought upon yourself?"

"It was an accident?" she tried, but he looked ready to snap. There was a vein throbbing in his forehead.

"You met a demon… and didn't even think to tell us? Did you know he was going to come to us? You should consider yourself lucky to be alive, and he… how well do you know each other?" His was now near a shout, and her mother set a tiny, lily white hand on his arm to steady him.

"I told you, chichi-ue, it was an accident. I don't know why he left me alive," she said honestly, and then mumbled as an afterthought, "He thinks little enough of me."

"What was that?"

"I said I'm not of great importance to him, anyway. Just a human girl he found in the woods. I don't presume to understand how his mind works!"

Lord Nanase sighed deeply, massaging his head in his hands. He looked worn, as he always did, but every line on his face appeared exaggerated and deeper than ever.

"I can only hope that he won't turn on us all," he finally said. "It's bad enough worrying about the other daimyos plotting to stab me in the back, but a _daiyokai_?"

Her mother rubbed a hand soothingly along his shoulders, trying to ease him out of his downtrodden state. He looked at her tenderly, only for a moment, before turning his eyes back to Izayoi.

"Daughter."

"Yes?"

"You may be dismissed."

She bowed her head respectfully, heart a little heavy at the disappointment in his voice. This was not something he would forgive her for easily. Izayoi knew that he was stressed - he hardly ever _yelled_ at her, even though he'd tried reprimanding her more times than she could count - and it made her feel stressed in turn.

When she left the throne room, she was lost in thought.

Her family had never been terribly powerful to begin with, just a group of wealthy farmers and landowners that had bought good favor with the emperor a couple of centuries before. Even with the privilege and title of lordship, they were really little more than common people. It had always been enough to keep them afloat and well above poverty. But things had become increasingly difficult in the last few decades.

Izayoi did not remember much about her grandfather, just that he was a hard man who did not do well with money or other daimyos. Her father still talked about him bitterly when he believed nobody was listening, his lingering resentment causing him to break the old rule about never speaking ill of the dead. The previous lord had only had one son - her father - and the rest had been daughters that married into better families. It was of little help, since none of them wanted to associate with the infamously bad-tempered late Lord Nanase. So it all rested on her father's shoulders - and he was not a strong willed person, prone to giving into people's demands too easily and often becoming sick with stress or worry. Izayoi felt sorry for her father, but she'd never tell him that.

She slipped out onto the wooden walkway that led to her room, trying to will her anxiety out of her body. It was incredible how quickly this night had gone from bad to worse - but the moon, at least, looked beautiful, and she was distracted by the glow it cast on the main courtyard. Izayoi didn't even notice that there was someone coming toward her until she'd walked right into them.

She almost fell over, but suddenly there were hands on her shoulders to steady her.

"I'm so sorry, I-"

Gold eyes met hers, and she sucked in a deep breath, ready to scream. Nothing came out, however, because the Inu no Taisho's hand had clamped over her mouth.

"Shh," he whispered.

"You scared me half to death!" she finally said, once she'd managed to push his hand away.

He had the nerve to smile at her, like he was holding back laughter at her expense. She didn't think any of this was funny. He'd shown up where he wasn't invited, practically threatened her parents, and had told on her on top of it.

"You… you didn't need to announce my presence like that, you know," she said sulkily, staring at her feet. She wished her juni-hitoe would swallow her whole.

"And you didn't _need_ to come back to the forest, so I think that we're even."

She tried to think of a good response, but he was right.

"Why did you stop me out here, anyway? What do you want?" Izayoi tried her hardest not to sound overly accusing, even though she was feeling pretty irritated. Maybe this relationship could be mended, since it didn't seem likely that she was going to be seeing any _less_ of him.

"I wanted to keep my word. You promised not to return to the woods, and I promised I'd try to find a satisfying solution to your… problem," he pointed out. "I think I may have one."

"What might that be?"

"I'll take you out to the forest. You can record to your heart's content, I'll return you home, and nobody will get injured in the process."

Izayoi choked, her eyes wide. She almost wanted to start laughing at _him_.

"Are you out of your _mind_?" she stuttered. "I can't go gallivanting off with… with... a yokai! That's… what if someone found out?"

"Nobody even knew you'd met me until I told them explicitly, so I think that your secret is likely safe. But now that you mention it," he said, his tone slipping from the formality he'd been maintaining just moments before, "what's wrong with 'gallivanting' with a yokai? Haven't you done that already?"

"Not… not on purpose, no."

"Well, if it's such an unattractive offer," he said, shrugging as he started to step away from her, "I won't trouble you anymore."

"Please don't go!"

He turned, giving her a look that said wordlessly: _I'm getting very tired of you_. It reminded her of a look her mother gave her when she was younger and wouldn't be put to bed at night, but far more threatening. Her stomach flipped on itself.

"Are you going to make a decision, or do you want to keep playing mind games with me?"

"Mind games?"

"You were very clever, getting me to return here in the first place," he said, more seriously. "You already know I have a weakness for humankind and you had no qualms in threatening to endanger yourself. I doubt that you're really that careless."

She gaped at him _._

"It worked like a damn charm, princess."

"How dare you…" she breathed, ire rising in her chest like a flame. "You're incredibly rude! I can't believe someone so brutish has the nerve to call themselves a daiyokai!"

"I can't believe a conniving little brat of a princess can rightly call herself nobility," he spat back, crossing his arms over his chest.

She squeaked in indignation, but something prickled in her eyes. Izayoi knew she was more frustrated with herself than with him. This night had been an absolute disaster – she suddenly couldn't remember why she'd been so proud of herself for getting him to return when all she wanted right now was for him to _leave._ But it would surely be even more disastrous if she sent him away now, on such horrible terms.

"I'm sorry," she said, though still a little too bitterly to be sincere, "That was uncalled for. I… there's nothing wrong with you."

"What?"

"Please forgive me!" she said, before slapping a hand over her mouth when she remembered that she should probably keep her voice down. It struck her very hard that she was in _his_ debt, and though she'd thought she knew all of his secrets and weaknesses, she now realized how pitifully little she actually understood.

He tilted his head, clearly confused at her drastic change in mood. Then he frowned when he saw that she had tears in her eyes.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded, trying to get herself composed once more. Finally, when the point of greatest danger had passed, she managed a shaky sigh, and braced herself.

"Inu no Taisho," she said, gently. "I would be happy to take your offer and… gallivant with you."

"What brought about this change of heart, then?"

It felt like she couldn't go two minutes without explaining herself to him. The inconvenience, admittedly, could probably be avoided altogether if she could simply figure out how to control her emotions. So, instead of trying to come up with a less humiliating story, she simply told him the truth: "I have a bad temper. I was just… upset with you for telling my parents that I'd gone back on my promise to them. I'm not used to getting caught."

The edge of his lip curled up in amusement, but he didn't speak.

"But I do want to go back into the forest, I _don't_ want anyone to get hurt for my carelessness, and I certainly don't want to trouble you any more than I have to. I never really meant to be rude to you in the first place but-"

"-I get on your nerves?"

She was amazed that he would put it so bluntly, but she nodded.

"It's not really _you_ that gets on my nerves. I'm just not used to getting told what I can and can't do, so I suppose that's a shortcoming of mine."

"Your parents have spoiled you."

"Not beyond saving, I hope," she offered, managing a tiny smile.

"No person is beyond saving."

"Well. I must apologize again," she said, resolved. "We really didn't have a good first few meetings, so perhaps we can try to rectify that."

"You've finally decided to behave?"

"If you're going to be watching over me, then yes, I think it's in everyone's best interests. Can we consider the issue resolved, then?"

"Your disobedience hasn't been forgiven yet," he warned, but she could see that he wasn't angry with her. He didn't even seem annoyed anymore. For split second, she almost wondered if he was teasing her. She was going to open her mouth to ask when she could expect him, or how often they might be meeting, when his head turned sharply.

"Ah, I've overstayed my welcome. Though I doubt I was ever _welcome_ ," he added. She realized that he must have heard something she had not; it was confirmed when she saw light coming around the corner and voices followed.

"How should we meet without..." she struggled to find the words, trying to hurry even as he readied to leave. "Where should I meet you? How will I even know that you're coming."

"You _will_ ," he told her, and then the moment she looked away from him, he was gone. She was beginning to understand that the Inu no Taisho was a slippery creature, always disappearing into shadows and wisps of wind like he was made of air. She heard her name being called from behind her, even as she looked off towards the direction of the slowly rising moon, wondering where he escaped to whenever he left.

"Shouldn't you be preparing for bed?"

Izayoi turned sharply to find that it was her oldest nursemaid, Nodoka, followed by one of the mansion's guards. The old woman looked worried and stern, a regular feature for her. Nobody knew better how to discipline Izayoi than she did, and nobody knew Izayoi's habit of sneaking better.

"Oh, yes."

"I thought I heard you talking, miss. What were you doing out here?"

"Only walking, Nodoka, it's such a beautiful night. Don't tell me I'm not allowed to be alone in my own home!"

"Not while there are demons about, young lady. And I did find out about your little escapade from your room tonight," she went on, stepping forward and linking Izayoi's arm in her own with a grip that was far too forceful for such a deceptively frail looking old lady. "This is what I get for leaving you with a couple of weak little girls for servants. _They'll_ be getting an earful later, believe me."

"They were only following my directions," Izayoi teased, watching for her to get gruff or become flustered. "Aren't they supposed to do that, Nodoka? I'm their mistress, and yours too."

She was surprised by a hard little pinch on the back of her hand. Nodoka smirked a little, watching Izayoi bring her hand up to her mouth to soothe the afflicted skin.

"Oh no, you're not. The servants follow my orders, and _I_ follow your mother's. If you're so desperate to lead your own little troupe of women then you ought to hurry up and get married," she admonished. "And then you can boss them around to your heart's content."

Izayoi scowled at the mention of marriage. She considered her options for a moment, before deciding that breaking away from Nodoka's iron grasp would only buy her at most a few minutes of freedom and thus was a waste of time. Instead she complied and walked back to the woman's wing in silence, and let herself be groomed for bed.

In her head, as she tried to fall asleep, she envisioned herself as someone's wife, ruling a house and telling off anyone who displeased her. It was a small comfort, a concession she supposed might be made by her future husband for her temper and will. She could hear her father's voice laughing at her, a memory from years ago, after she'd become a woman by virtue of menarche and was at the cusp of marrying age.

_"I'd feel sorry to give you away, my precious Izayoi. But I'd feel even more sorry for the fool who married you!"_

That had been right before her mother had shot him a glare and told him without words that he'd better not say anymore. But it was true; Izayoi was too prickly and stubborn to encourage many suitors, and even the ones who'd come for a first meeting had usually been too put off for a second. Her parents called it 'brattiness', whereas she insisted it was simply because she was too clever for them.

Following her most recent meeting with the Inu no Taisho, she wasn't so sure anymore. Maybe everyone else made allowances for her behavior, but he didn't have the desire nor the time. He tied her brain up in knots and turned her intelligent little tongue to dust in her mouth. She stared up at her ceiling, too awake to sleep, too cautious to get up again.

Izayoi supposed she hated him a little bit for it, that he made her burn with a peculiar sense of annoyance and anger, but when she had time to reflect on his behavior towards her it wasn't _really_ unpleasant. He'd offered to help her, and though it bothered her that he'd told her parents about their previous interactions, she realized the purpose of it in hindsight. If they believed that he was only concerned with keeping her safe in her own home, then they would never suspect him as her link back to the forest. She also considered that his ability to hear things beyond her own senses, as well as his tendency to disappear on cue, would actually make it easier for her to hide her tracks from anyone else's prying eyes. The more she thought about it, the more convenient and wonderful his powers seemed to be.

Izayoi decided right then and there that she would never hate him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edit as of 7/17/2016:
> 
> Notes, notes, notes galore! let's start with some quick definitions:
> 
> Daimyo: a feudal lord  
> Juni-hitoe: a kind of elaborate, multilayered kimono. What Izayoi was always shown wearing in the manga and anime.  
> Shamisen: three stringed Japanese instrument.  
> Saigoku: a region in the midwestern part of Japan, now known as Kansai.
> 
> On the subject of Saigoku; Inuyasha's father was said to have prowled the "western lands" which is like... really vague. However, I've seen two official sources say that it was Saigoku (one being a promo poster for the 3rd movie and the other being the Inuyasha Profiles book) and while neither of those sources are strictly canon? Given its proximity to Musashi Province where Inuyasha takes place/starts out, I'd say it's totally plausible that Inupapa lived in Saigoku. Also, this is where 'strict canon' comes to die a slow and horrible death anyway, who are we even kidding.)


	4. Chapter 3

When he'd told her that she would know when he'd arrived, she was expecting something subtle and discreet. Perhaps a message, or a signal, or maybe something less tangible; she had half expected to be struck by intuition or some wave of demonic aura. What she had _not_ been expecting was to hear a dog howling – it was too loud and too close to sound like a normal, wild dog or a lost pet. Izayoi heard it sometime after she'd finished her dinner, as she was sitting in her room and reviewing some old and well-loved family scrolls about medicinal herbology. There was a great clamoring outside of her doorway.

She picked herself up off the floor and leaned in to eavesdrop on the frantic conversation she heard coming from the hallway. Her father had ordered some of the guards to go outside and be on the lookout for anything strange or monstrous, and now they hurried about and a good sized group of them were headed towards the front gate.

This left the back walls more or less unattended. There was a sudden gust of wind, and a noise at the shoji which led to her little private garden that sounded like rapping. Izayoi sprang into action, hastily tying back her hair to keep it from flying every which way, and then she snatched up her notebook. She only paused for a moment to slip on her zori and make sure that her sleeping kimono was tied tightly enough that it wouldn't appear indecent. She slid the door open.

At first she didn't see anything, and thought that maybe she'd been overexcited and hearing things, but a flutter of movement at the top of the garden wall caught her eye. There he was perched, crouching and balancing his weight almost entirely on his toes, staring directly at her. Her heart suddenly stuttered in alarm, surprised to find him up so high and precariously positioned. But more than that, she was unsettled by the way his eyes met hers, flashing yellow and reflective in the dark. She'd subconsciously been thinking of him as more man than demon, but now, with nothing but the moon lighting him, it seemed quite the reverse.

Izayoi swallowed heavily, her throat and mouth dry. The Inu no Taisho leapt down, the motion slinky and mesmerizing, and then in another instant he was right before her.

"Hello," he greeted.

"Good evening," she whispered back. "Are you always going to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You howled earlier," she said, and then she giggled nervously, "at least, I hope that was you."

He smiled - the sincerest one she had seen from him yet. "Yes, that was me. Why, did it make too much fuss?"

She gave him a little smile of her own in response. His diversion had been a little bizarre for her tastes, but it had worked and she was grateful for the opportunity to slip away without being noticed. And thus far, this meeting was already going much better than the first few – even though he was still clearly teasing her, it felt much more lighthearted. Izayoi figured it was safe to respond in kind.

"Are you always so _dramatic_?"

He made a funny sort of sound, like a snort mixed with a laugh, and tossed his hair back over his shoulder with unnecessary flair and enthusiasm. It was curious, she couldn't help thinking, how it never seemed to get caught in the spiky armor on his shoulders.

"I guess so," she said, raising an eyebrow. Then she straightened her back, suddenly mindful of the time and of herself. She looked down at her feet, tilting her head, and then sighed loudly. "If I knew I was meant to be climbing walls I think I would have dressed for it."

"Who said anything about climbing walls?"

"How else am I supposed to get out into the forest?" she laughed, before narrowing her eyes. "I can't go out the front gate, thanks to your earlier, um… announcement. I can't exactly just fly up and over my garden wall, can I?"

"You can't," he repeated, and then without warning she'd been scooped up in his arms and he'd cleared the back wall in a single quick bound. Izayoi was first shocked that he'd be so bold as to bodily remove her from her garden, and then amazed by the height he'd managed in one leap. She squeezed her eyes shut and managed to stay silent when he came down on the opposite side of the wall, his feet landing with an unusually soft tread in the grass. The Inu no Taisho set her down and didn't even look at her before walking off in the direction of the overgrown bamboo edges of the woods, as though this was a very everyday occurrence for him.

Izayoi was stupefied for only a moment before she realized that he wasn't going to wait for her, and she scurried to catch up to him. She wanted to ask him at least a dozen questions, to fill the silence that was settling between them. How well could he see in the dark? How would he be able to know if they were in immediate danger? What was typical behavior for dog demons, anyway? After rehearsing a few of them in her mind and considering how he might take them, she settled on one that seemed simple and unassuming:

"Do you have a name?"

He didn't respond, but looked at her instead, his nose wrinkled like he was disgusted. Izayoi wondered how something so normal could have possibly offended him, but she shrugged it off.

"Okay, then, since you won't tell me," she conceded, "I'll just call you Taisho from now on. The full title is a mouthful."

"That's fine."

They mainly walked in silence after that, through the dense, dark woods. Finally, she found a spot that she liked - a small clearing, with plenty of growth around it and a small stream that cut right through the middle. The moonlight shone down, bright and unfiltered by any overly tall or thick trees, which certainly made it much easier to see. Although she usually came out during the afternoon when the lighting was better, she couldn't complain too much – after all, these excursions of hers had always been risky at best and outright dangerous at worst, but now she had the luxury of lowering her guard a little bit. At this point, it was only a matter of recording what she could remember off the top of her head – and that didn't require _nearly_ as much precision or concentration as starting over from nothing, so the dim light of the moon could be forgiven. Her yokai companion didn't speak; he only stayed nearby and watched - perhaps with a bit of fascination - as she moved from bush to root to fern, muttering half phrases to herself about which things might be used to heal what ailment, or which things were edible and which things were poisonous. After a while she didn't even notice he was there with her – he kept himself out of the way, unobtrusive and quietly guarding her from his place in a low branch of a nearby tree.

She was genuinely surprised by how comfortable she felt. Maybe they hadn't gotten off to the best start, but something about being around him made her feel _safe._ The space around him seemed altered from its natural state, the plants fluttering slightly from an unfelt wind. It appeared that even the nocturnal animals were wary of him, and the spaces around them were unmarked by their usual chatter or movement. It was as though they were inside of some kind of bubble, the outside world far behind them while they sat in complete peace.

Izayoi couldn't really tell how much time had passed. At some point she'd lost track of time entirely, not looking up even once to see that the moon had risen high and then already begun its descent to the horizon. Instead, she obsessed over he notes, trying to make the most of the nighttime she'd been given. He'd migrated closer, and even then her focus was intense and unbroken.

"You should pace yourself," he said quietly, and she startled.

"What makes you say that?"

"You need sleep," he pointed out. "It's pretty obvious, actually. You can barely keep your head up."

Izayoi looked up at him – she hadn't felt tired at all, but the moment he mentioned it her head seemed to grow fuzzy and her eyes felt heavy. She sighed despite herself, and stretched her arms far behind her head – trying and failing to stifle a gaping, unladylike yawn in the process. The Inu no Taisho cocked his head, watching her slowly and clumsily try to get back up onto her feet. She smiled sort of dazedly at him, as if to say ' _lead the way',_ and they began the trek back to her home. It was amazing how quickly her exhaustion had caught up with her now that she was forced to stand and move around again.

He linked his arm through hers when he noticed that her footsteps had become uneven and her posture had sagged. She was only vaguely aware that she was even walking until he'd brought her back to the wall, and then Izayoi was plucked up off the ground and over the stone and wood barrier in no time. In the dim moonlight, in the middle of her fully-bloomed garden and a little delirious from lack of sleep, she felt as though she was dreaming and that none of the night had really happened.

"How do you do that?" she asked without thinking. "It seems unnatural that you can jump so high. How do you do it?"

He only tilted his head at her, like the answer was somehow obvious. His mysteries seemed unending and frustrating, and she had to force herself not to roll her eyes.

"If you come back," she asked, switching the subject, "when can I expect you?"

He cracked just the barest hint of a smile, only enough to show the edge of a fang.

" _When_ I return, it will be on nights when the moon is full. That way, at least, you'll know when I'm coming."

"Full moons," she said, laughing lightly, "the last time I saw you was on the night of the full moon. Is there something special about them?"

"Not in particular. But I thought it would be helpful if you had plenty of moonlight." At that he gestured towards her book, which she had temporarily forgotten about. Somewhere along the way back to her room she'd become just the tiniest bit more interested in yokai than plants. Izayoi was still setting out to track the natural world, of course; but now she thought she might like to study _him._ This was an opportunity that had far exceeded her initial plans.

"I'll wait for you then," she told him, holding her head up determinedly. "If you're not completely deterred by this point, of course."

"Tonight was bearable," he said, totally deadpan. "Expect me within the season."

Izayoi nodded, and watched him go.

o0o

She waited. She tried to tell herself that she wasn't _waiting,_ that she was living her life as usual and she would see him again at the next convenience. If she was being really, truly honest with herself, then she could admit that she was excited and eager for their next meeting and she would like it to be sooner rather than later. Her eagerness translated into a kind of boundless energy, one that had her ready to laugh at anything or snatch her attention away from koto and calligraphy lessons to think about yokai and secrets instead.

It was a delayed reaction of kinds; she'd not totally processed all of her excitement and the reality of her situation until it had already happened. Now it was like a bottle had been uncorked and all of her delight spilled up and over from head to toe. Her parents seemed confused by the change in her demeanor; Izayoi had always been a rather energetic girl, but slightly petulant. Her joy was strange, unfounded, and unexplained.

Soon, the anniversary of her birth passed. It was met with little ceremony, but it seemed to remind everyone that she was getting older and not in any hurry to stop. The household found its mood changed abruptly, from quiet and a little lonely to filled with strangers. Izayoi didn't understand it at first, when the first one arrived only days after she turned eighteen, but by the second or third visitor she had picked out a pattern.

All of the visitors were men. They were dressed in formal clothing, most appearing to be lords or merchants, but certainly none lower ranked than that. Izayoi remembered this particular routine from years before – when she was younger, and her prospects for marriage had been higher. These men were likely here to see _her,_ but only if they pleased her father and mother first. She kept out of their way, not willing to give them a glimpse of her until her parents could be sure the prospective suitor could meet the right conditions.

Izayoi's excitement was dampened, but only a little. She couldn't figure out how serious these men were in their pursuit of her, not yet, and so she was left feeling merely unsettled. After nearly two weeks she hadn't heard any details, and she hadn't been told to meet any of them.

And then, at the beginning of the third week, her father called her in to see him.

"Now, my daughter," Lord Nanase said, his face pleasantly diplomatic. "Something wonderful is upon us."

"Yes, chichi-ue?"

"I have found you a husband."

Izayoi didn't speak. She just waited for him to elaborate.

"His name is Setsuna no Takemaru. He's a samurai who has been in my charge for a number of years now. His reputation is excellent, as he's fought a good deal of campaigns for me and a few daimyos to the east of us. A very responsible and level-headed young man, that one, from what I've seen of him personally."

"You sound very fond of him, chichi-ue."

"Promise us that you'll try to get along with him," her mother interjected. "He's young, but he's made quite a name for himself in a very short time. Perhaps you will take to each other."

There was hope on her parents' faces. She hadn't seen an offer like this in a while, though it was once again clear to her that her choices were becoming slim. A samurai of good repute was certainly nothing for her to turn her nose up at, but he was still not on quite the same level as the clan lords she had gotten calls from in her girlhood. All at once the reality of her age sank its teeth into her, sobering her, pushing a lead-like weight into the pit of her stomach.

Izayoi knew what marriage meant. It was a kind of death; so many of her habits and freedoms would have to be put aside for the responsibility of running a household. She knew from observation that it was a massive undertaking – her mother worked like a puppet master, directing servants and weaving the threads of daily life together as though it were natural to her. That was the hardest part. All of the work was done out of sight, kept in the back rooms and in private, to maintain an illusion of grace and effortlessness. It was far from effortless in practice.

Simply put, Izayoi didn't have that kind of training. Her mother had always tried to teach her and it had always been in vain, but now she found herself wishing that she'd paid more attention. She felt like the world had been jerked out from under her feet, like she needed more time or else she'd be caught completely unprepared.

Maybe, at least, this man would be kind enough that he wouldn't mind her inexperience. Or maybe he'd be handsome, or particularly devoted. Either one would be a small consolation, but a consolation nonetheless. In the back of her head she knew that her days of being selective were coming to their close, and that if she was going to survive she needed to start looking for reasons to be optimistic. It seemed very bleak to her.

Somehow, this made waiting for the Inu no Taisho even more unbearable.

o0o

Two moon cycles after the last meeting, he returned.

Izayoi was not going to be caught off guard this time. She dressed properly for the slightly cooler air and actually took time to arrange her hair so that it would not come undone and tangle. Her book lay nearby, ready to be filled. Through the clouds she could see the dim glow of the full moon, casting everything in its eerie, silvery light. She suspected that it was near midnight when she heard a soft tapping on the door that led outside, and when it slid open he was there, standing tall and waiting to take her into his arms so that they could cross over the wall and enter the forest.

"Izayoi," he greeted. He appeared even more stoic than she remembered, straight backed and stiff as a board, his face impassive. She felt a surge of uneasiness through her, before realizing there were other things that seemed out of place as well. The skin under his eyes looked dark, poorly rested, and there were little scratches and cuts all over his jaw and neck.

She shook her head, trying to clear it of the embarrassment she felt for staring. "Taisho. Shall we?"

He nodded, stooping very slightly to catch her knees and back before he picked her up and shot off into the sky. She clutched at him once more, still too afraid of the height to open her eyes more than a crack, and suddenly her feet were safely back on firm, solid ground. He put a hand on her shoulder to steady her, but it was brief.

Izayoi wanted to talk to him, to ask questions and find answers. She wanted to know what he'd been doing in the months since she'd seen him last. But something about his posture warned her not to, or at least that if she did, she would only be met with silence. He was completely stony. It didn't frighten her, exactly, but she felt a curl of disappointment in her chest.

"It's very pleasant out tonight," she mentioned, only testing the waters, watching him for changes. He looked down at her, but didn't speak. Izayoi tried to resign herself to the dead silence, the eerie stillness that was now settling over them.

But she found herself a little annoyed by it. There was nothing to keep her company out here; though she'd always been used to being alone in the forest, there had always been the chattering of animals and insects, the sounds of leaves rustling against each other.

"Why is it so quiet?"

Again he only looked at her, that damnable expression that seemed to say _'isn't it obvious to you yet?'_

"It's dead quiet out," she elaborated, gesturing broadly to the greenery around her. "It's as though everything in the forest has died or gone to sleep. I was wondering if you knew why?"

"It's a barrier," he told her. His voice sounding rough from disuse.

"A barrier?"

The Inu no Taisho sighed, pointing to a space between two trees. At first Izayoi didn't see anything at all, but when she looked a little bit closer, the air there seemed to waver and shake, like it was made of water. She stood, moving closer to it, and stuck her hand through. Nothing happened.

"Hey," she said, now more forcefully, "it doesn't work."

"It doesn't work like _that_."

"How _does_ it work?"

He had hopped down from his tree branch, now closer to her. She thought he looked a little bit on edge, his face very tight and almost grim.

"It isn't a physical barrier," he told her. "It just makes everything inside of it invisible."

"Oh, that's handy!" she said. "So there's nothing inside of it because nothing can _find_ it?"

"Yes."

"How do you do that?"

She didn't think it was a hard question to answer, or that she was prying, but he had already done his share of speaking for the night and apparently wasn't in the mood for more conversation. He barely acknowledged her before turning away to return to his tree. It rubbed her very, very wrong.

"Rude," she huffed, partly under her breath. But he heard, his head snapping up and his eyes pinning her with their bizarre, unearthly gold.

"Excuse me?"

"Why are you ignoring me?"

"Why won't you stop talking?" 

Izayoi felt her face heat up in an angry flush, her hands tightening into fists at her side. "How horrible! I can't believe I ever agreed to this, all you've done is reprimand me or mock me. I'm going home." She picked up her notes in a quick motion and started off, but she was stopped short when his hand caught her elbow.

"Don't manhandle me," she demanded. "I'd like to go home by myself, since you obviously don't want anything to do with me!"

"I think you're being a little ridiculous."

"Oh, shut up!"

"First I wasn't talking enough for your liking and now you want me to stop talking," he said. She ripped her arm away from him in frustration, almost surprised when he let go of her without a fight.

"If you only open your mouth long enough to say something stupid, then I think you'd better keep it shut."

Somehow, she knew before she said the words that she was crossing a line.

"Fine," he responded, and though his voice wasn't raised something about it made her feel like she should bow her head away from him. "What is like to feel you're always above reproach?"

The question felt like it came out of nowhere, and Izayoi thought it seemed almost like a verbal slap across the face.

" _What_ … what do you…," she stuttered. She couldn't maintain the hold of her gaze anymore, and finally her head dropped.

"Well?" he demanded.

"I don't… I don't understand-"

"I've far more to do than entertain a human girl," he said. "I'm here to make sure you don't run off and get yourself killed, not for fun or conversation. You still refuse to acknowledge the danger that you're in."

She couldn't think of anything to say.

"Is this a game to you?"

"No," she replied, but it was too quick and wavering to be convincing.

In reality, the answer was that it _was_. It was fun to try and figure out who he was, to not get caught, to trade secrets with a demon and then return to the safety of her sheltered little life, where she would put off getting married and taking care of her family for a little longer. Izayoi felt something akin to self-loathing, which was entirely new and entirely unwelcome. She'd never had any reason to feel like this before.

"You should just take me home," she finally managed. Her face was red and her voice was shaky; she knew that she probably looked every last bit the spoiled child he'd accused her of being.

"Yes," he said. And then he turned on his heels, beckoning her to follow. She walked at least two paces behind him the whole way back, staring at the back of his head as though she was trying to burn a hole through it. At the outer wall of her garden, he stopped and gave her a hard, searching look. Izayoi felt like she was wilting.

"I've never met anyone more in need of discipline than you."

"Don't speak to me like I'm a child."

"You're in no place to be giving me orders," he said quickly, the tiniest edge of a sneer on his lips. "I'm not here for charity. If I wasn't completely sure that you would sneak out again the moment I left, I wouldn't bother returning."

"So you hate me?" she cried, hurt more than she thought she would be. 

He looked sort of taken aback by the outburst, but ever the master of his own expressions, it was gone before she knew it.

"And don't think I didn't notice how sorry you looked, coming here," she went on, her throat starting to get tight. "I wanted to ask about that, but I didn't think you'd tell me. Something is bothering you, isn't it?"

Now he was really and truly knocked off balance, and his mouth went kind of lax like he was surprised.

"You don't think I care about anyone but myself, Inu no Taisho, but I _do_ ," Izayoi said, clutching her book to her chest as though it could protect her somehow. "Nobody thinks I'm anything more than a spoiled, stupid child."

In another heartbeat, there were tears spilling down her cheeks. They felt hideous and wrong to her, but they refused to stop once they started. She felt helpless and terrible, quickly bringing up a hand to swipe them away.

"If you weren't incredibly clever, I wouldn't still be here."

Izayoi blinked up at him, surprised by the compliment, and even more by the sincerity with which it was delivered. She searched his face for any sign of pity, or of mockery, but there was none there.

"Nobody ever tells me what I should do or expect," she whispered, her voice thick. "So when it comes time to behave or do what I'm meant to, I don't know how."

"That isn't stupidity, that's ignorance."

"I don't want to be ignorant," - her breath was hitching now - "I want to know what I'm supposed to be afraid of, more than just a vague threat, and I want to know why you look so tired."

"My life is very different from yours," he told her. "I have a great deal to think about."

"I don't want to be a burden to you," she pleaded, "I want to be your friend."

It seemed very naked, putting it out into the open like that. Izayoi felt her hands getting clammy and cold, worsening the longer he didn't respond.

"You do have an odd way of showing it," he finally sighed, but the tension was gone.

"I don't have very many friends," she admitted. "But I'm… I can be a quick learner, if I'm given the chance."

"You continue to surprise me."

She thought it was an odd thing for him to say, that he could be surprised by someone as commonplace as she was. All the same, she felt herself relaxing slightly, the point of greatest danger seemingly past them. Izayoi lifted her head up and leveled her eyes with his as best she could.

"Whatever it is that you've gone through, I can try to understand it," she said, "I know how foolish I must seem but if there's anything I can say for myself, it's that I'm not afraid."

His face seemed to transform in front of her, stony to pleased in a quick moment. The Inu no Taisho leaned, bowing a little at the waist to get closer to her.

"That may be foolish of you," he said, and his voice was warm to her, "but it might also be brave."

"I hope it's bravery. Tell me your stories?"

There wasn't any immediate answer. He stooped, snatching her up to finally return her to her room – and only when she was safely on solid ground did he speak:

"Those stories are for another meeting."

What he hadn't needed to say, she realized as he left her alone once more, was that he would be returning again and again despite her anger and outbursts. And maybe in some way, he was returning _because_ of them, in the very same way that she preferred him to tease and prod at her rather than remain silent.

It didn't make a lot of sense to her, but Izayoi was determined that it would someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edit as of 8/1/2016:
> 
> shoji: a sliding door.  
> zori: straw sandals. They look like flip-flops!  
> koto: 13 stringed instrument, played by plucking at the strings while seated. There's a quick eyecatch of Izayoi playing one in Swords of an Honorable Ruler.
> 
> Figuring out how I wanted Izayoi to react to marriage was one of the hardest parts of her characterization. I didn't want her to be fully obedient to her parents' wishes, since she obviously ends up not going through with it. But I didn't want her to be all rebellious like "I want to marry for love!" in that kind of Disney princess-esque way. I think that a girl in her position, in that particular cultural-historical place, probably wouldn't have thought too much about love matches. So I decided on apprehension and anxiety about not knowing what to do, more than an outright hatred for marriages of convenience. Hopefully that comes across without being super obnoxious!
> 
> I'm also not sure how clear it is, but Inupapa is fully able to erect barriers. I'm assuming that he put up the one around Tessaiga in the show, and it's not really that much of a stretch to imagine that someone as powerful as he was could put up barriers! As for his reasons for doing so, and his moodiness in this chapter - chalk it up to Ryukotsusei. More on him later.)


	5. Chapter 4

It came as no surprise that their next meetings were a little tense. For three months they were on tentative grounds with one another, simply trying to avoid any more outright conflicts. Izayoi stayed focused on her book, filling it fuller in that time than she'd been able to in nearly the last year. The Inu no Taisho always lingered in the edge of her sight, seen and unseen, there and then gone again. But something was beginning to change as the weather sharpened into autumn and grew cold.

There were no plants for her to record, but he came for her anyway.

He'd also extended 'once every full moon' to 'when the moon is halfway lit' to nearly once a week. More peculiarly, he asked her questions. She always responded, telling him about herself and her life and her family. The notebook eventually went from being the reason they met, to little more than pretense, to finally lying forgotten in her room when she rushed out to meet him. It felt like something was growing between them.

Even better; the conversation wasn't quite so one-sided anymore. Though he still avoided answering most of her questions about him, the more general ones were met by either humor or genuine good nature.

For instance: "What do inuyokai _eat,_ if it's not human food?"

"Unlucky, curious young women."

And of course she feigned shock, but smiled to herself in secret.

Despite all of the progress, Izayoi's patience wore a little thin. When he spoke about himself it was only on the very surface level, as though he had no thoughts deeper than the state of the weather or his current mood. He'd promised her that he would talk about it all, someday, but the nights flew by and she found she knew as little about him as she had at the start. She didn't know his age. She didn't even know his real _name_.

This time, she thought, she had a plan.

Sometime around midnight, when all of the other residents of the mansion were asleep (and Nodoka was finally done holding her nightly vigil over Izayoi to make absolutely _sure_ she wasn't going to creep away) she heard the telltale sound of claws scratching on her door, a sort of gentle _tap, tap, tap._ And, as always, he stood just outside and waited for her. Izayoi plucked up a cloth wrapped earthen pot stashed away beneath her low writing desk, and slipped outside in the chilly night air. And there he was – still for a moment as she oriented herself, and then the next instant lithe and vibrant.

She slid the door shut quietly and greeted him with a smile. He returned it, but it faded to suspicion when he saw that she clutched a bundle to her chest.

"What are you holding?"

Izayoi grinned. "Sake."

"Oh?"

"I'm not planning on drinking the whole thing by myself, so you can stop looking at me like that!"

He laughed under his breath, and swept her up. She could almost feel a physical change in the air around her, a crackle of magic, of potent demonic energy. But there was no sense of dread or fear, only a kind of exhilaration. For a few moments after he set her down on the ground, she'd look and notice that the fine hairs on her arms were standing on end.

She wondered if she'd ever get used to it.

"I brought dried meat, too," she babbled as soon as she'd gotten her wits about her, "you never did tell me what demons eat, other than unsuspecting humans, so I just guessed."

"Meat and sake are an alright guess," he told her, the slightest hint of amusement slipping into his voice. "I'll take both, since you've been so kind as to offer."

Izayoi beamed silently, following his footsteps closely and tromping through the dying autumn forest.

When they'd reached her little clearing, she took her place on one of the flat rocks. The air had become chillier and chillier at night, so the stone was cold. Even dressed in her warmest, heaviest sleeping robes, the frigidness permeated the fabric and left her teeth chattering a little. This, she figured, could be solved easily by alcohol.

The Inu no Taisho took his place beside her and watched as she revealed all the hidden food and drink. There wasn't much, just a modest bit of dried fruit and preserved meat, and the centerpiece of it all: the earthen jug of sake, snuck from her father's stores. She sat the drinking saucers next to it and smiled, pleased with her handiwork.

"You stole all of this," he pointed out, that amused tone of his growing, "Either your parents are remarkably unobservant or they don't care at all."

Izayoi shrugged, pouring some of the rice wine for him.

"What my mother and father don't know can't hurt them."

He looked as if he was going to say something, but then he bit his lip, reconsidering. He took the cup when she offered it.

"Cheers," she proclaimed, holding up a matching cup. Then she downed it in record time.

"Princess," he asked loftily, only a few sips into his, "do you make a habit of guzzling your drink?"

She shot him a dirty look.

"I'm not a lightweight, Taisho. You can't be a princess and not know how to hold a bit of sake."

"Why is that?"

"Well," she began, already pouring another full cup for herself, "if you have some with guests as greeting, and then again with dinner, and then perhaps later if you're involved in any sort of political discussion, and perhaps even once more before the evening is over with song and dance. Some nights you end up having had five or six cups and if you aren't tempered to it, you'll be drunk silly and look like a fool. And, no, I know it's not considered orthodox for princesses to drink, but everyone offers it to you anyway and it would be rude to say no."

He downed the rest of his cup. She refilled it for him without asking.

"You're so tiny that I never would have guessed."

"You think I'm tiny?" she laughed. Compared to most women, she was probably average, but beside him she definitely appeared to be very small. 

He smiled warmly in response, and she was then abruptly reminded of the task she had set herself upon.

"That brings me to a question I've been meaning to ask, Taisho."

"Hm?"

"Is it normal for demons to be so tall?"

"It depends on the demon really. But it's not that we're tall, it's that humans are very short."

"Hilarious," she told him, blank-faced, before pressing onwards. "Well then. How old do inuyokai get? On average? Do you all come out as fully formed adults or do you have childhoods? Are you born as puppies or babies?"

"You're getting too far ahead of yourself," he said, chuckling. "I'll answer one question. Choose wisely."

"How old are _you_?"

"Three hundred and fifty."

Whatever answer Izayoi had been prepared for was immediately blown away. Her jaw fell and her mouth opened with an audible 'pop', but she couldn't find any appropriate words. She suddenly understood why he found her tiny; her eighteen years were as fleeting as a single breath. The Nanase clan hadn't even existed when he was born.

"But," she stammered, "you don't look that old!"

His laughter was boisterous in response.

"You're shocked!"

"I'm sorry, I just can't wrap my head around it. I've met men who aren't even forty that look older than you, how on _earth_ are you three hundred years old-"

"And fifty," he interrupted, eyebrows raised. "Those fifty count."

"Oh, forgive me." She shook her head and busied herself with more sake, hoping to drink away her surprise and perhaps some of the embarrassment of her outburst. When she looked back to his face she could see that it was flushed; only slightly, just a dusting of red across his cheekbones. That was new, and very encouraging.

After a moment of painful quiet, she finally set down her cup and sighed.

"Here I thought I was getting old," she mumbled, "now I feel I have to reconsider completely."

"You don't seem old, even by human standards," he pointed out. He had moved incrementally closer to her, so that his knee touched hers.

"I am, though, for an unmarried woman. Some girls are married off by thirteen, though I certainly don't envy _them._ "

He appeared solemn at that, if not a bit disgusted. This did not deter her at all; her head felt a little fuzzy and warm and she was going to tell him what she thought.

"By now it's normal for a woman my age to have wed and had a child or two, but I have to be very selective."

"How so?"

"My family isn't very powerful, you know. Father is always joking that it's because we're cursed for angering the gods, or something like that, since we've had nothing but bad luck for the last few generations," she said, staring at her cup as she spoke. "I'm the only daughter of a dying clan."

"Ah," he murmured, and she took it as a sign to continue.

"Being as I am," she said, gesturing widely to herself and lifting her eyebrows, "I can't go to war to build funds and power. I have to marry well and I have to marry soon, which means convincing someone better off than me to marry a woman with no family fortune. And for what, my charm? My youth? Any man who would want me exactly as I am is unlikely to be rich or have honorable intentions. I've been very picky about men, but I'm running out of time."

Her little rant ended with a dramatic sigh. It was only half true; she _was_ selective, but it had less to do with the integrity of her family name and more to do with her own personal reservations about being married. If she'd been really and truly dedicated, she could have been married by now. It might not even be so bad.

Izayoi looked up at him through her eyelashes, waiting for either amusement or annoyance. He only looked at her, completely unreadable.

"Why do humans make everything so needlessly complicated?" he asked quietly, after she'd finally dropped her gaze back to her folded hands. "Not that yokai don't have political marriages and things like that. It just seems that so much of the burden is unfairly divided."

"Hasn't it always been that way?"

"Not at all. Maybe I'm being too general," he said, sighing, "in your villages and farms the rules aren't as strict."

"Oh." Izayoi suddenly felt a kind of longing stirring deep in her chest, and she tightened her grip on her cup.

It wasn't that she was quite naive enough to think that her life would be better if she was a peasant. She'd heard some of her maids talking about their families, back home, and all of the difficulties they'd faced. Izayoi, at least, never had to worry about being clothed or fed. But there was a sense of freshness in it, that life was uncomplicated, and even if it was hard it was honest. It made her wish, even if for a moment, that she could face the world like that.

"If you find our marriage customs strange," she asked, "then what are yours like?"

He shifted uncomfortably, for once under her scrutiny instead of the other way around.

"There's definitely less fear of running out of time," he said slowly, mulling over the words. "Marriages aren't a strict necessity for us, not the way they seem to be for you. A single inuyokai can do the work of two parents quite easily, and the women are more than strong enough to fend for themselves."

"Why do you do it, then?"

The Inu no Taisho smiled, a kind of fond and nostalgic look settling on his face. "We like the company."

She recognized his expression as one of longing, suddenly, and the next question from her lips came out on a whisper:

"Have you ever been married?"

"Yes. I had a wife," he told her, voice gentler than she'd ever heard it before. "We have a son."

For a moment she thought her hearing had failed, and then she felt like the air had been sucked from her lungs. Whatever idea she'd been constructing of him, this was not it – the titles of _father_ and _husband_ didn't seem to stick to him, didn't seem to belong in her mind. The world had temporarily tilted on its axis.

"A… a son?" she finally stuttered after a long, brutal silence.

"He's young still," he said, voice distant but clearly affectionate. "Not yet a century and a half. Takes after his mother in nearly every conceivable way, although I haven't decided whether or not that's a good thing."

She leaned in as if to ask him what that meant, catching his eyes and raising her eyebrows.

"He's as beautiful and clever as she is," he elaborated. "But he's ruthless in his ambitions."

Izayoi watched him stretch a little where he sat, extending his legs out in front of him. He'd changed as he spoke, showing her the tiniest glimpse of a different person, someone with a past and loved ones, somebody comfortable and warm. She didn't know what to say to him now, stuck between wishing the moment would draw on forever and feeling like she needed to speak and ask him more while he was still like this.

"Were you happy?"

The moment the words left her mouth she wanted to cram them back inside.

"We were for a long time," he started, but then the openness in his posture and in his voice cut off abruptly. He sat up straight, face set in hard lines. "It was never her job to make me happy."

"I'm sorry," she began, her earlier buzz dissipating almost all at once. "I didn't mean-"

"I think you've been outside long enough for one night."

She felt a prickle inside of her, somewhere deep in her ribs. It almost resembled a sort of silent panic, and even as she picked up the earthenware and leftover food her brain screamed at her to fight the decision to go back home. It seemed like such a waste for this conversation to end here.

But it was her stubbornness and inability to leave well enough alone that had caused him to close back up, and even she could tell that further conversation would be utterly pointless now. Once she had gathered everything back into its makeshift satchel, he held out his arms to her once more. The trip back felt long; she just didn't have the heart to talk anymore, so it was silent and awkward.

When Izayoi was delivered safely back to the small courtyard outside of her room, she knew they would part as they always did. He wished her goodnight and disappeared like a shadow into the sky, his silhouette backlit by the stars. She closed her door.

Without warning, she slumped against the wall, faced with an onslaught of sadness she hadn't expected. Her breath came in shallow pants, quicker and quicker, rising like a fever pitch. Her heart felt like it was going to burst, or like someone was ripping away at her insides. It was a different feeling than the ones she'd always had before when she didn't get her way; that was anger, petulance. This was fear and sadness, disappointment not for her own sake but for _his._

She didn't understand why she felt so afraid, why his absence felt like a hole in her side. There were questions that niggled at her brain, but one that stood out more than all of the others:

What was _Izayoi_ to him, exactly?

That question stuck with her and wouldn't disappear or leave her to rest, even hours later as she tried to force herself to sleep. She almost felt angry with him, silly for telling him all about herself with no prompting only to be told in return that her customs were worth pitying. She felt small, sick, and terrible; but worse than that she felt lonely. Did he not see that she felt isolated in her own home, far from the propriety of other nobles or even the simple, honest lives of the peasants in their village? Was it lost on him that he was the only person she had to talk to, that he was the only tenuous connection she had to the world around her?

Couldn't he see how she adored him?

The revelation of it was too much, and she crumpled in on herself in a fit of self loathing and pity. She was going to feel so stupid in the morning, that she had cried herself to sleep, but for the moment she couldn't bring herself to care.

o0o

At dawn, Nodoka shook her awake.

"Missus," she hissed, her voice sharp to Izayoi's exhausted brain. "You've slept half the morning away. If you aren't awake in five minutes I'm going to have to drag you out of here."

"Go away," she muttered, her eyes still shut and feeling crusted over with tears and sleep. For a moment it seemed like she was going to be able to escape back into blessed unconsciousness.

Without any other warning, she felt herself doused in frigid, icy water. Izayoi sputtered and sat up, looking around wildly. Above her stood a very triumphant Nodoka, holding a upturned wooden bucket and grinning her semi-toothless smile. Two handmaidens stood behind her – they appeared to be new, since Izayoi had never met them before. One of them looked like she was holding in laughter.

"Chiyo, Natsuki, this is your new mistress."

Izayoi shot up like a bolt, suddenly struggling to stand. Her nightclothes were almost completely sheer after being drenched and her hair was sticking to her cheeks and forehead. She didn't even want to imagine what her face must have looked like.

"She certainly does paint quite a picture of elegance and beauty, doesn't she?"

The young women tittered and Izayoi's face burned with anger. This was the worst possible follow-up to the night before that she could have imagined. She tried to steel herself and appear dignified.

"What brought this on, Nodoka? Weren't you always telling me that I wasn't fit to have my own servants?"

Nodoka pulled a sneer, and then laughed rather heartily. "This wasn't my idea at all, little lady, it was your mother's. And you should thank her, too. She's always looking out for you and without a word of thanks from your lips!"

In a moment Nodoka was laughing again and the three women launched into action. The one named Chiyo was a mousy looking girl of perhaps fourteen, short and soft with a rosebud mouth and nervous eyes. She picked up a comb and started to brush through Izayoi's heavy, black tresses, working without a single tug or pull to the scalp. The one named Natsuki was much taller and looked older, maybe about Izayoi's age, and she had a smart expression on. She swept in and began peeling the wet nightgown off.

Finally, after she'd been combed and dried and the old makeup had been scrubbed from her skin, they set to work dressing her in one of her oppressively heavy juni-hitoe. Today it wasn't all twelve kimonos; only 5, but still each layer had been carefully plotted so that the effect was near a full rainbow of colored silks once they were all on. The very topmost robe was a deep, plummy shade, embroidered with delicate scenes of flying cranes and waterlilies.

Fresh faced and fully dressed, she set off for the day, the earthen jug of sake left to collect dust in her room, last night's revelation ready to be shoved to the furthest recesses of her mind. But her mood was already spoiled and by noon everyone had caught on.

"What is it, love?" Lady Nanase asked delicately as her daughter picked at a bowl of rice and umeboshi. "You've been distracted all day. Are you troubled?"

"Forgive me, haha-ue, I didn't sleep well," she said quickly. It was a half-truth; she'd slept very poorly, but her mother and father certainly weren't going to be told the reason why. "Actually, I was curious about something."

"Yes?"

"Nodoka said that my new maids were your idea?"

Her mother smiled, setting down her cup and smoothing her hands out over the low table top. Lord Nanase looked up from his food briefly, as if giving his wife the go-ahead.

"You have been of age for some time now," she said pleasantly. "I thought it might be good practice for you to have something of your own to look after. Given that you're meeting with a potential marriage candidate soon, you might make a better impression on him if you… have a certain sense of responsibility?"

"What your mother is saying is that you need to learn to run a household sooner rather than later," her father added, giving Izayoi a pointed look from across the table. "The fastest way to learn is simply by doing it."

"Thank you, haha-ue, for the opportunity," Izayoi said, bowing her head slightly.

"You can really be such a charming young lady, when you put the effort in," her mother said cheerfully.

Izayoi pretended not to notice that it was a little backhanded.

Many hours later, as the day turned slowly to evening, Izayoi felt less angry and more tired with herself. The sobering reality of it all was that she was an adult and needed to behave like one, which meant that getting drunk and prying into someone else's personal life were certainly inappropriate behaviors – it was no wonder the Inu no Taisho had been so put off by her. By nighttime she simply felt like she was running in place, that she'd been running in place all her life; she wanted to be the kind of princess who was obedient but commanding, beautiful but modest, refined but honest. Izayoi wished with all of her heart that she could figure out how her mother had learned to do all of those things, but it seemed too late now to start learning for herself.

The sinking feeling of regret and disappointment seemed to grow the nearer she came to her room.

Chiyo and Natsuki undressed her dutifully, chattering away like magpies around her, their words only hitting Izayoi and not fully sinking in. They were pleasant women, but she was preoccupied – if they noticed this, they didn't mention it. After the pair of them had left her to herself, Izayoi lay awake and played absently with a strand of hair, mulling it over.

How long would she be able to keep seeing him before she had to stop? She could do it now, but once she was married it wouldn't be possible or acceptable. Izayoi imagined being married to a faceless man, someone lying beside her at night and watching her during the daytime. She thought about how she felt when she saw the Inu no Taisho, the anxiety of tentative friendship, the satisfaction of knowing that they'd shared secrets. She turned her face towards the outside wall; the moonlight streamed into her room and brightened it almost unnaturally, making it too light too sleep but too dark to really do anything.

When she could take her restlessness no longer, she flung back her covers and rose to leave her room. Once she was outside, Izayoi breathed in the cool night air of the courtyard. It felt good to fill her lungs with its freshness, the scent of late autumn lifting her spirit. It felt good to stop thinking so much, and instead shut her eyes and just let the cold sharpen her and clear out her doubts.

After a long moment, she opened her eyes again and sighed, ready at last to try and get a good night's sleep. As she turned, a pinprick of yellow flashed in her periphery and then it _moved._

Izayoi suppressed a shriek.

"Good evening."

"Hello," she managed, though her heart was in her throat from surprise. "Taisho?"

He slunk down from his perch, and if she wasn't imagining things he looked very close to bashful.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted.

"Should I leave?"

"No, no! It's just... this is the second night in a row you've come to me. You never do that."

"I suppose that's true," he said, and she didn't miss the way that his brows creased, as though he was worried about something. "I felt as though… maybe our conversation from last night wasn't finished."

Izayoi's heart flooded with dread, but also a touch of relief. She'd finally convinced herself to let the subject drop, just in time for him to decide that he wasn't finished. But she was lying to herself if she didn't feel hopeful.

"You want to talk?"

He nodded.

"Alright, but we need to stay in my courtyard. I am altogether too exhausted for a trip back out into the forest."

"Of course."

She huffed as she sat down on one of the little wooden benches near her pond, and she beckoned for him to sit next to her. For a moment she watched as the koi swam in seemingly endless, unimportant circles, mesmerized as she waited for him to speak first.

"I wanted to apologize for last night. I cut you off," he said, the low timbre of his voice more soothing than it had ever been. "That was rude of me."

Izayoi couldn't look at him, because she was sure that if she did her face would turn red or she'd say something embarrassing. But she was glad for the apology, and - albeit small - bits of warmth seemed to be returning to her anxious and worn mind.

"Thank you," she sighed. "I shouldn't have been so nosy, though. You have as much right to your privacy as anyone."

He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, and his chin resting on his fists. His eyes were trained on the fish, entranced by their movements, and he spoke after a short moment of quiet.

"I know so much about you," he murmured, "even down to what your favorite seasons are and what you like to eat."

"I told you all of that, though, you never asked."

"I think we're past the point of having to ask," he told her, looking over at her. She tried to meet him, but maintaining eye contact felt especially difficult so she defaulted back to staring at the pond. Izayoi did not miss the way he was angled in towards her.

"Will you tell me, then? About your life? I want to know who you are," she asked quietly. "I'm not trying to study you, although maybe I was at first. But it's different now. I'm trying to get to _know_ you."

"I'm new at this," he admitted, and she could have laughed at how nervous he sounded. "I've had my share of stubborn friends before, and intelligent friends, and even nosy friends, but you are the strangest combination of those things I've ever met. And a young, human woman on top of it."

Now she really couldn't contain her laughter; she let out one short, sweet little cry, flinging her hands up into the air as the pressure and frustration seemed to release from her chest all at once.

"I've never had a friend so patronizing! Or vague and confusing! Or _old,_ " she told him, smiling hugely. His nose wrinkled up, preposterous on such a dignified and beautiful face.

"Old?"

"I call you any number of insulting things and all you can think about is that I called you old? I didn't know you were so vain."

"I consider vanity one of my biggest weaknesses, actually."

"There are worse weaknesses to have," she told him, shrugging lightly. "But the problem is that now all I know about your family is that they're very pretty. Is that all?"

"Forgive me," he said, a little more seriously, "my wife and son are powerful and noble, as well as beautiful."

"You have nothing but kind words for them," she said fondly, "that's good, isn't it?" Then she was quiet, and lingered on that bit of information for a moment _._

"I love my son, even if he is… difficult, at times."

"How so?"

"He craves conquest far too much to be healthy," he explained, sighing and gazing up at the cloudy night sky. "I think he feels he must surpass me; which he must, certainly, but he's in a hurry to do it. He doesn't realize that he's only a child in comparison to me."

"By inuyokai standards, how old is he?"

"He's an adolescent, not quite on the cusp of adulthood. With all of the typical symptoms attached, I'm afraid. I can't decide whether or not he'll grow out of it."

"But you love him all the same."

"I do," he said, and his expression was once again touched by tenderness, "He's smarter than I was at his age, and I have no doubt that he will be a greater leader than me by far, someday. But he must learn compassion first, and I'm afraid his mother is in no position to teach him _that_."

Izayoi was again struck with the desire to know about this elusive woman, his wife.

"Tell me about her?"

"Ah," he said, his face breaking into a grin. "She's probably best described as difficult. I like her a great deal, but it's better that we don't spend too much time around each other. She's too vitriolic, though I didn't mind at all when I first chose her."

"How did you choose her?" Izayoi prodded.

"I am even vainer than you give me credit for, as it turns out. She was more beautiful than any other creature I'd ever seen, and she was challenging. When I was younger and more hotheaded I think I liked that about her," he explained. "I liked chasing her around and she liked to be chased."

She twiddled her thumbs together, hesitant to ask the question she really wanted an answer for, but he seemed less intimidating than he had the night before. He had called her his wife, but spoke about her as though it was long behind him. Izayoi bit her lip, considered, and took the leap.

"What happened?"

Inu no Taisho sighed gustily, his eyes sliding shut. He looked deep in thought for a moment. "We butted heads too much, too often, usually about petty things. It wasn't a problem until it came to Sesshomaru's inheritance. I wanted one thing for him and she wanted another, and the only thing we could seem to agree on was that arguing about it was only doing him harm. It didn't make sense for me to stay anymore."

"Oh," she breathed, "I see."

"Don't worry. It's been a long time, and it's not so fresh that it still hurts."

"But it did hurt."

"Of course it did, but that was the natural progression of things. If it makes you feel any better, we're still quite good friends."

"I'm not the one who needs cheering up," she laughed. "You seem… I don't know. A bit lonely."

Izayoi finally managed to meet his eyes, once they opened. He didn't look unhappy with her, but understanding, reflective. She couldn't imagine making a life and having a child with someone only to watch it end in front of her.

"Would you ever do it over again? Remarry, or something?"

"I've wondered that before, and I still don't know the answer."

She mulled it over. He was fortunate in a way, that if he felt like marrying again he could just _do it;_ there was no obligation to produce more heirs, no need to secure himself, nothing binding him to it except for what he wanted.

He must have noticed her long silence. It seemed like an eternity before he spoke again.

"You told me you would have to marry soon. Are you afraid at all?"

"I don't have the luxury of being afraid anymore," she said, resolved but feeling something inside ache at the admission. "I have a suitor that I'm going to meet soon. If I'm being honest, he's probably going to become my husband. I don't know a thing about him, but maybe I'll get lucky and we'll really like each other."

"I think that you'll be happy in the end, Izayoi."

"You believe that?"

"I do. Once you make your mind up to do something, you're impossible to stop."

"You're being very kind, Taisho," she sighed, playing absently with a lock of hair in her lap. Then, without warning, she yawned and suppressed a shudder of exhaustion.

"And you're very tired," he said pointedly, smiling. "I won't keep you any longer."

She nodded, sad as always to part with him but feeling a lot better than she had the night before. He stood, pulling her up with him as she tried to keep her eyes open, before he bowed his head.

"I hope you sleep well."

"Thank you," she murmured, but as he turned to go she startled. "Wait!"

"Hm?"

"I think… I hope that you'll consider your own happiness, too." She blushed hotly, not knowing whether she'd managed to cross another line, but the corner of his mouth turned up a little.

"I do, that's why I'm here. I will see you again before the end of next week," he told her, and then he was gone again.

At first she was bewildered, and then a burst of warmth flooded her chest.

Being with her made him _happy_. This was the first sign she'd been given that he was honestly with her out of choice and not an obligation to keep her safe. Her hungry, affection starved heart felt patched up and calm for the first time in months. They were friends now, really and truly.

She fell asleep that night and dreamt of him holding her in his arms as they flew over the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edit as of 8/11/2016:
> 
> umeboshi: pickled plums.
> 
> I changed his age a little from what it was originally, although it doesn't make a lick of a difference storywise. It's actually based on two things:
> 
> 1) The first movie mentions him battling with Menomaru when the Mongols invaded, which happened in 1281. Given that Inuyasha happens in like 1540-1550, and this story is taking place in 1475-1490... he has to be at least 200, and probably older than that since you can't really fight and win battles if you are a tiny infant baby. And 2) I saw someone use a formula for demon ages that was their physical and mental maturity times 10. I tend to think of him as roughly equivalent to a man in his early to mid-thirties: old enough to have a teenage son, but definitely not older, so 350 it is.)


	6. Chapter 5

 Her triumph over their newly minted friendship was very short-lived, quickly replaced by anxiety. Lord Nanase had been in regular and frequent contact with Setsuna no Takemaru and a date was set for Izayoi to meet him.

It loomed ahead of Izayoi like a storm cloud, black and ominous. She couldn't say it was because she doubted the integrity of the suitor her father had chosen for her – she generally trusted him to make reasonable decisions, and to keep her happiness in mind. It had more to do with the rather crushing weight of its importance. All week before he was due to arrive, she resolved herself to present the most perfect picture of a young woman that Takemaru had ever seen in his life. In her mind's eye she saw herself blushing and smiling prettily at some faceless man, being smiled at by her parents, and then…

She didn't want to think of anything past that. If they got past the first meeting, there might be a few others simply as a formality. And then he might be invited into their home to stay for a period of a week or so, and if things went well it was likely that Izayoi would become his wife. The whole thing made her antsy; she barely slept at night, overactive imagination supplying to her all of the ways in which things could go wrong.

The day of his arrival came far too quickly for her liking. It was cold, and the first snow was falling from the sky when she woke up that morning, her body tired and aching from the lack of rest and the sudden chill in her room. The lady of the house very nearly had to drag Izayoi away from her covers, in an act that closely resembled a wild cat dragging off a terrified fieldmouse. Once she was finally upright and generally coherent, she was assaulted by no less than five different women, with her mother and Nodoka heading the attack. She was scrubbed and polished until she was practically glowing, her skin pink and bright from cleanliness and cold – then she was sat down her tatami, and all at once they descended upon her, wielding bright pots and shells full of cosmetics. Her mother sat before her and Izayoi listened to her talk as though she were in a daze; she heard instructions here and there, codes of good conduct, subjects that were acceptable for a first meeting with a young man.

All the while, her hair was combed out long behind her, her fringy bangs pulled up and held in place by a beautifully ornamented hair pin – it was lacquered wood, the end capped with etched brass and dripping with white and pink glass beads. She shook her head experimentally and had to suppress a cry of delight when it clicked and jangled. With her hair now safely out of the way, one of her mother's older maids moved in and began painting her face with heavy white rice-powder. She struggled a little to keep her eyes open once the creamy, greasy pigment had been applied to her eyelids, and then finally a careful little pout was slicked onto her lips.

"A shame," her mother bemoaned as the maid dipped her thumbs into a pot of charcoal and smoothed them over Izayoi's eyebrows, "that you won't let us pluck them."

"It hurts!" Izayoi said, scowling. "I like my eyebrows just fine the way they are."

"Suit yourself, I suppose."

Finally, she was stood up on her dressing platform, arms out wide. Layer by layer she was dressed, until she felt as though she was wearing more than her own weight's worth of silk. Nodoka produced a mo, almost out of thin air – Lady Nanase took it upon herself to tie it on personally, and all of the chatter went quiet.

"This used to be mine," she told her, softly. "I wore it when I first came to this mansion to live with your father."

Izayoi pulled a handful of the sheer, delicate fabric into her hand from behind her, looking it over. It had been well kept all these years, still a beautiful, creamy white – all the painted on patterns were still crisp and vibrant.

"She's as beautiful as you, my lady," Nodoka said, a rare moment of kindness and sincerity passing over her. "Looks just like you did back then."

The two women regarded her, all painted and dressed on her little pedestal. Natsuki came over with a small, round mirror to let Izayoi see herself, and she was taken aback – she did look like her mother now, refined to the point of being unrecognizable. It all seemed to be happening around her and not to her, but the spell was broken when Lady Nanase picked up her daughter's hand in her own. Her mother nodded to the others, and they hurried away to leave the woman and her child.

"You'll be alright, Izayoi."

"I suppose so."

"You have every good reason to be nervous, don't you? I may not understand how your mind works at all times, but I've known you longer than anyone," she sighed, rubbing her thumbs over Izayoi's palms in soothing little circles. "Takemaru is a worthy man, of good character and upbringing. He won't hurt you."

"I'm… I'm not afraid of being hurt," she finally admitted, gripping her mother's hand back. "I'm afraid we won't get along."

"I'll tell you a secret, daughter. You don't have to get along with your husband at all times," she said, her face serious. "You must obey him, but you don't have to like it. You must lay with him, and you might not always like that, either. But if you give it enough time and understand that perfection is never achievable, you can be happy."

"That sounds very bleak, haha-ue."

Her mother actually laughed a little, the sound gentle and bird-like.

"I meant to tell you that it's okay to hold grievances sometimes, that you don't always have to perform with a smile on your face. Your husband will be only human, as you are only human. You will both make mistakes – it's your duty to be mindful of them, certainly, but don't be fooled into believing that your imperfections bind you to a lifetime of misery. He will care for you, in time, and you will care for him, if you can forgive each other's errors."

Izayoi considered it, staring down at her shining, buffed fingernails.

"How do you know that it will be alright?" she finally asked, as Lady Nanase smoothed an errant wrinkle in her daughter's heavily embroidered topmost kimono.

"I was nervous too, when I was first married. Your father and I… I think there was a learning curve, but we figured things out eventually."

"Ah," she replied, and left it at that. The lady of the house sighed, and touched Izayoi's cheek.

"You used to be such a small thing, and now look at you. A grown woman," her mother said, tenderly. "I must sound very silly to you, going on like this, but someday you'll have children of your own and you'll understand what I mean."

"I hope so, haha-ue."

Lady Nanase looked extraordinarily dignified to Izayoi, dressed beautifully and always put together as though she was expecting the best company. And even now, in her more private, earnest moments, there was a quiet air of grace around her – even though her eyes were watery, and tears threatened to spill down her powdered cheeks. She tapped her fingers where they rested against Izayoi's face.

Finally, she began to lead her away from the security of her private room. Izayoi felt her nerves start to act up again, as she padded down the cold wooden hallways. When the shoji was opened for her in the main hall, her head was light and her breath was coming in shallow, desperate gasps.

"Go," her mother instructed, indicating that she should kneel in wait. There was a small canopy set up in the center of the room, where one could sit and look out towards the open door and see who was coming without being seen themselves. Izayoi shuffled over to it, feeling slightly clumsy as she knelt and went to duck inside of it. She only broke pose in order to meet her father's eyes, the same lovely black as hers, and he gave her a reassuring sort of half smile. She tried to explain to herself that in the worst possible case, surely, her honorable and caring parents would still love her. And then the screen was lowered in front of her view, breaking his eye contact with her. Izayoi kept her head low and waited.

It could have only been a few moments, but it felt like an hour to her. Beside her, Chiyo and Natsuki sat dutifully and kept her clothes and hair in good order. Izayoi longed to speak to them, to have the company while she waited, but every time she tried her throat felt too closed up to speak.

Then, at last, she heard the voice of a young boy telling her parents that Setsuna no Takemaru had arrived safely. She heard her father talking to him about putting his horse up, about where he should stay and for how long. Her heart was absolutely in her throat and she started squirming without meaning to. A new voice filled the room; a man's, not too young and not too old, pleasant and polite. Her father was receiving him enthusiastically.

"Izayoi, daughter," Lord Nanase called to her. She lifted her face, looking out in front of her. "Izayoi, Setsuna no Takemaru."

"I'm honored to meet you, hime-sama."

"The honor is mine," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady and gentle. She knew that he couldn't see her through her screen, but her voice must have given away her surprise because he shifted a little where he knelt in front of her and appeared to be fighting a smile.

It couldn't be said that he wasn't handsome. He was seated, but she could still tell that he had good posture and was very sturdily built – an idyllic samurai, noble, graceful, and confident. He looked young, perhaps a few years older than her.

She hoped that her face wasn't turning colors –though the white paint might conceal some of it– but she was vaguely pleased that at the very least, her future husband wasn't ugly.

Her father seemed to notice the drawn out silence, because he cut in: "Izayoi is a rather accomplished koto player. I wonder if she'd do us the honor?"

"Yes, chichi-ue." She felt a little startled, blushing despite herself. From behind her, Chiyo slid her koto in to place. Izayoi took a deep breath, slipping the pics over her fingers and then touching the strings lightly, feeling them as though they could play themselves or offer her any form of comfort. Then, without any more reason to stall, she played.

It was a short song, melancholy in tone and a bit gentle, but for all it was worth Izayoi got through it without a hitch. When it ended, the final note hung in the air, ringing in her ears and filling the room.

"Beautiful," Takemaru said, "I wonder if she looks as good as she plays?"

Izayoi dropped her pics beside her, face now flaming. He was apparently well versed in the art of flattery, and if his intention was to come off as immensely likeable, it was working. She deliberated for a moment.

In a quick, sharp movement, she lifted the thin screen between them to let him look at her face, holding it above her head and staring straight ahead at him. Her parent's gasped in unison, surprised and perhaps pleased with her decision – nothing was a surer sign of Izayoi's approval than this. Takemaru's eyes went wide, his mouth falling for a moment before he managed to tame his expression. Even then, the corner of his lips lifted.

And then, very carefully, she rose from her place on the floor and he rose from his knees with her. Izayoi gave him a dainty, polite bow.

"I'm delighted to have you in my home," she said, "would you stay for an evening?"

"Absolutely."

Her mother and father now rose, too, and beckoned them to follow. Unable to resist one last look, she glanced up at him through her lashes to where he walked beside her, and he smiled at her in a decidedly pleasant and flirtatious sort of way. Izayoi ducked her head, looking away quickly and walking quietly along.

o0o

Fortune seemed to be on her side. Her mother had instructed the maids to set out a lovely spread for mid-afternoon tea, and while they sat around with each other and drank in welcome of their guest, Izayoi took the opportunity to privately study her suitor.

First, she noted, his looks were the sort that came off as refreshingly open. She could read his features easily, and so it was impossible to miss his meaning simply because his expressions gave him away. He wasn't beautiful like the Inu no Taisho (a comparison Izayoi realized later that she hadn't meant to make), nor was he refined and polished like her father. Takemaru was just simple, handsome, and plain.

Secondly, he was very diplomatic. He knew precisely the right things to say to her father and mother, and even to her. This too Izayoi attributed to his trade; he'd spent his whole life catering to clan lords who had hired a company of samurai for defense or battle. Politics were in his blood, she learned over the course of conversation; he'd been born into a family of soldiers and his father had worked for the Nanases before him.

Thus it seemed natural that at some point the two families would join at some point. Lord Nanase even joked about it once dinner had been served.

"I can't believe I never considered you before," he laughed, his face a little reddened from drink and laughter, "but it's better late than never, I suppose!"

Takemaru said nothing to this, only smiled first at the lord and raised his cup in agreement, and then cast a sidelong look at Izayoi. She busied herself with her food, averting her eyes from the pair of them.

Finally, after the sun had set and all of the food and drink were cleared away, her father took him aside and her mother did the same with her.

"You seem to get along fine," Lady Nanase said cheerfully. "I think we've finally stumbled into a patch of good luck, don't you?"

"He's alright," Izayoi responded noncommittally. "I think chichi-ue is fonder of him than I am, at this point."

"Don't underestimate the power of your father's approval, Izayoi."

She was solemn after that, considering her mother's words and trying to make sense of her own feelings.

At last, they all rejoined each other. Takemaru suggested a walk on the grounds; at first Izayoi thought that he meant they should all go and she looked to her mother as though waiting.

"He means just you, dear," she explained under her breath. A spike of anxiety shot through Izayoi, but she looked around at all of the pleased smiles around her and at Takemaru's anticipation and felt she must agree.

"I would be happy to."

The ground outside had a light dusting of snow. It wasn't enough that it made walking about a hassle, but rather coated everything delicately in clean, fresh white – the ground beneath her feet was crunchy with frost and the sound it made was decidedly pleasant. The cold made her feel awake, more clear headed than she had the entire day.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Oh, yes!" she responded, surprised. "I'm sorry, did I seem unwell?"

"You looked thoughtful, that's all," he told her.

"It's the weather," Izayoi said, taking a deep breath. "It's cold, but it's still a nice night for walking."

"Ah."

They spent less than half an hour outside, Izayoi figured. Their conversation was light, surface level mostly – she learned he'd taken over his father's company at the age of twenty-three and that now, three years later, everyone was surprised that he hadn't taken a wife yet.

"What was the holdup?" Izayoi laughed. The pressure to marry, at least, was familiar to her.

"The whole country is at war with itself," he said simply, and then his face became grim. "But we shouldn't talk of such things."

Izayoi felt like Nodoka had doused her in ice water again, as the the mood grew suddenly chilly. She felt a little annoyed with him – though he'd only done what was appropriate of him, she'd come to expect more stirring conversation.

"Busy, then," she said lightly, trying to smooth it over. "A much better reason than mine."

"What was your reason, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Nobody interested me."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Or maybe," she corrected, realizing that she probably sounded very particular, "it was that nobody was interested in me."

"Forgive me for saying so, but I find that hard to believe," he chuckled. "You are an exceptionally interesting young woman."

Izayoi didn't know how to respond – she didn't think she was any more educated or accomplished than other young women, and even now she held back most of her opinions and interests. But Takemaru had no way of knowing about those things. He had clearly decided that he liked her, and she knew that she shouldn't have any reason to complain, but her brain rebelled against her anyway. Izayoi felt as though she was trying to sabotage herself, so she simply stayed quiet and hoped her silence would be taken for shyness or delicacy.

In all other ways, though, it was not a bad meeting. He'd been sociable and not at all unkind, keeping a polite and acceptable distance from her. Only for a moment did he breach the invisible line of propriety by taking her hand for a moment and declaring that it was like ice. It was a clever tactic, she realized, to hold her hand under the guise of warming it up.

Finally, the evening wound to a close. Takemaru was put up in the guest quarters and would leave early in the morning, so Izayoi said her formal goodbye to him before bed and thanked him once more for the company. Then she too was ushered off for sleep – and immediately bombarded by questions.

"Do you like him?" Natsuki asked as she peeled off Izayoi's clothing. "He definitely looked like he was interested in you."

"How romantic is that!" Chiyo sighed, holding out a bowl of warm water and cloth so that Izayoi could finally be rid of her sticky face paints. "A samurai and a princess."

"I haven't made my mind up yet," Izayoi replied, more waspishly than she meant to.

"You'll have to make it quickly, missus. Men like him get taken fast," Nodoka said sharply, pulling out the last of Izayoi's hair pins and wrapping a strip of white linen around it to keep it from getting tangled while she slept. "Alright girls, let's leave her to herself. I'm sure the princess is tired of all your yapping."

And then she was alone for the first time all day.

Izayoi wasn't actually sure why she felt so cross, at first. She could only imagine that it was simply because everyone else liked him so much without reservation that she felt almost obligated to find fault with him – but there were no faults, or at least there weren't any that were obvious enough to turn him away.

She wondered if it was because she didn't know him well enough. She wondered if it was because her tastes were decidedly more in favor of exciting, strange things rather than domesticity and peaceful wifehood. Then at last she wondered if it was because it meant that not only would she have to stop running away into the forest whenever she pleased, but that her friendship with the Inu no Taisho would have to end.

Izayoi sat up. It felt wrong to even think about it, not after all they'd gone through just to be friends in the last months. Stranger, she felt like she couldn't stop comparing the two men to one another, as though there were any similarities in their situations. Husbands were not friends, and friends did not become husbands. She just didn't want to give up one of the closest relationships that she had in favor of one that was only beginning. There was no guarantee that she and Takemaru could ever confide in each other, or that they'd ever even want to.

If there was a way to keep both things, then she would do it. She just didn't know how.

o0o

Predictably, everyone had questions for her the next morning.

"Shall we invite him back?" her father asked over breakfast, after their guest had already left.

"There's a right answer to this, isn't there?" Izayoi muttered, before taking a gulp of hot tea. When he gave her an inquiring look, she straightened her back and tried to brighten up. "If you think we should, then we should."

"Excellent. I'll send word to him."

The rest of the day moved agonizingly, boringly slow. After being wound up tight for so long over their first meeting, Izayoi felt rather like a fallen kite; there was nothing to do, nothing to look forward to. Whenever she thought about seeing the Inu no Taisho again she felt suddenly let down – she didn't know what she should tell him, whether to turn him away or continue to meet him in secret. She knew what she _wanted_ to do.

Therein lay the problem. Even though she'd tried to ignore it, and even though she hadn't noticed it before, Takemaru's visit had made one thing very clear to her: she was growing attached to the demon. At first she'd chalked it up simply to loneliness and curiosity, but after seeing her suitor and speaking to him she understood the value and pleasure of good company. Takemaru wasn't stupid or dull by any means, but she felt differently about him – there was no rush of happiness, no sense of satisfaction, no eagerness to see him again. At worst she felt indifferent, and at best she only liked him.

Still, Izayoi didn't allow herself to think any further than that. If she did, she knew she'd start imagining what it might be like to be married to someone like the Inu no Taisho. That was impossible, messy, and stupid. The last thing she needed right now was to develop romantic feelings towards him.

Nighttime came once more, which seemed like a blessed relief. All Izayoi wanted to do was sleep and stop thinking. When she was somewhere between dozing and sleeping, there was a tap at the outside door.

Immediately she was wide awake again, clutching her blankets to her chest and staring at the shoji. She waited, half hoping that it was only her imagination – and then it came again, the unmistakable sound of claws scratching. She rolled her shoulders, tried to rub the tiredness from her eyes, and got up to meet him.

"Oh," she said, her voice the littlest bit groggy. "It's you."

"Of course it's me."

"I wasn't… expecting you tonight."

He looked confused, before leaning back to look up at the sky. The moon was waning, still half, so he must have been wondering whether or not he'd been mistaken. He wasn't, of course.

"If you'd rather not see me-"

"No!" she cut in, startled. "No, I'm sorry, I've had so much on my mind today."

"Tell me, then," he said, gesturing for her to come out with him. She hesitated, the chill uninviting, but decided that she would rather go than not. She slipped on her shoes and trod out into the yard.

"Going into the forest is not a good idea, tonight," he mused out loud. "It's frozen over and nearly everything is dead."

"Yes, it certainly looks that way."

Izayoi shuddered, pulling her topmost robe tightly around herself, but the cold was so pervasive that it seemed to find every crack and gap in her clothing. He looked her over for a moment, head cocked, and then pulled the fur pelt off of his shoulders to wrap it around hers. She blinked up at him, surprised.

"Is that better?"

She nodded, following him as he sat down on one of the benches. The fur felt heavy and soft, like a blanket – she stroked her fingers through it absentmindedly for a moment, and pressed her cheek against it. It smelled like trees, and dirt, and something she had trouble identifying for a moment before it occurred to her that it actually smelled like _him._

"Izayoi?"

Her face grew warm and she shook her head, trying to dispel the blush that was forming.

"Um, thank you for letting me borrow this," she said hastily. "It feels like I've been cold all day."

"Ah."

There was stretch of silence. She couldn't decide whether or not she wanted to tell him what was on her mind, or keep it hidden lest she make a total fool of herself. Eventually she thought it would be best to stay somewhere in the middle.

"I met the man my parents chose for me to marry," she told him, quietly. "It was interesting."

" _Interesting?_ That could mean any number of things," he replied, leaning in a little to look at her face. "Was he absolutely horrible?" he added, voice lowered.

"Oh, no!" she laughed lightly, shaking her head. "He was just fine! Not bad to look at and certainly not cruel, but-"

"But?"

"I just… can't figure out whether I like him or not. I feel like I should."

Inu no Taisho shrugged, and appeared to be sympathetic – but he offered no advice, no suggestion.

"He likes me, at least," she added, "he told me so."

"It's unrequited?"

"That's the problem. Everyone expects me to marry him, and if I'm being honest I think I probably will, but… it's as though the more I'm asked to do something, the less I want to do it. If there was less pressure to like him, I would like him more. How backwards am I?" she groaned. "Why can't I just fall head over heels in love and be done with it?"

"That is definitely not how love works."

"No, it isn't. I thought I would feel more strongly about the whole thing!" she sighed, a little exasperated. "The last few months of my life have been so exciting and interesting that he seems boring by comparison, which I know is a cruel thing to say, but-"

One of his eyebrows had risen, and he looked incredulous.

"What?"

"Do you expect to never have fun again?"

"It's not that, it's… Taisho, once I'm married, I don't think I can see you anymore."

His face fell, and he looked disappointed, but he also looked like he was waiting for her to explain.

"It's not that I want to stop seeing you," she said hurriedly. "I want very badly to keep seeing you."

"It would be wrong of you, though?" Something is his voice indicated that he didn't fully understand.

"I can't marry one man and spend my nights with another. If someone found out I was meeting you now, they'd forbid it without a doubt, but if I was married and someone found out I'd be…" she paused, imagining it, thinking about what it would mean for her reputation. "I'd be as good as dead."

"They would think you were having an affair with a demon."

She choked a little, hearing it so bluntly.

"Is that what you meant?" he asked.

"I guess so? I mean," she hedged, biting her lip for a moment and trying to explain herself. "If I'm being honest I think everyone's first thought would be something like 'why hasn't he murdered her yet', but it wouldn't take long before people started gossiping about my intentions. What other reason would a married woman have for meeting a yokai willingly?"

"As if there aren't a plethora of other reasons," he said. "I can think of a dozen off the top of my head."

"That's generous," she said sharply.

He was quiet, contemplative.

"I think it bothers me," she finally said, gentler than before, "that I'm supposed to just give up my entire sense of identity when I become somebody's wife. I'm not always happy with who I am, but I don't want to be someone different for my husband."

"I think you're doing yourself a disservice, talking like that."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, a prick of annoyance running through her.

"Who creates art while your men are busy killing each other? Who writes novels and poetry? Who cares for the sick?" he asked. "I know I've said that human burden rests unfairly on women before, but I've lived a long time. You're a tenacious bunch, and you especially."

"I think you're very optimistic."

"Maybe. I'm just saying it might not be as bleak as you think."

She knew he was trying to comfort her, but she'd also noticed that he didn't address the fact that he might not be a part of her life for much longer. It was hard to know the reason why.

On an impulse, touched by his attempt to make her feel better, she reached out and pulled one of his hands into her own. It was much larger than hers, warmer, rougher, darker. Izayoi was afraid to look at him, so she stared at their joined hands instead.

"I'm terrified," she admitted. "I keep feeling like things can't possibly work out well. I'm tired of failing my family. I want to be a good person. But I want to stay with you and I know it's foolish, because I can't have both."

"You don't know that for sure," he said, soothingly.

"I wish I did know what was ahead of me! I wish I had the kind of confidence you have," she told him, voice wiry and choked from emotion. "I don't think you understand how important you've become to me."

He gave her hand a reassuring little squeeze, and she finally looked up at him. Embarrassingly, her eyes were starting to blur, but through the wetness she saw kindness on his face.

"I think I can guess," he told her. "I know what you mean."

"Demons aren't supposed to have feelings," she laughed, but it was a soft and uncertain sound. "I never thought you'd think of me as anything more than a pest."

"You give me no credit," he said. "I do have feelings, actually. Maybe it would surprise you to know that I like you quite a lot, these days."

She pulled her hands back, reaching up to swipe at her eyes. "It's only because I tricked you into liking me," she joked, offering him a quick grin.

"It worked."

"And I'm glad it did–" she started, but was then interrupted by a deep yawn. "Or else I'd actually get a decent night's sleep once in a while."

"How horrible would that be, getting enough rest?" he snorted, and she rolled her eyes at him. "In all seriousness, I think it's time for me to let you go back to bed."

"It's only sleep. I can do that during the daytime," she whined, but obligingly handed back his fur as soon as he'd stood up. "…If you must go."

"I'm afraid I have to leave you with bad news," he said, more soberly. Izayoi frowned at him, but he continued. "I'm going to be unable to return for a while. I can't tell you exactly how long yet, but it's likely going to be for a few months."

"Oh," she murmured, her heart falling a bit.

"Will you wait for me?" he asked gently.

"What sort of a question is that? Of course I will. My only condition is that you come back in one piece."

"Don't worry about that, Izayoi, it's not a dangerous task at all. I'm going to meet an old friend of mine for… well, I guess you could call it business," he explained. "I won't take any longer than I need to."

"I wish you well, then, Taisho."

"Izayoi?"

She looked up at him. Perhaps it was because she was tired and her thoughts were even more unfiltered than usual, or that the moonlight was so soft and cast everything under its spell, but she thought he was rather beautiful. She always had, even in those first few moments when she wasn't even sure if he would let her live or not. Now that she had known him for a little while, now that she knew that even he was fallible and prone to moodiness and anger, but also to affection and humor, he seemed even more lovely.

"Yes?"

"You're going to be alright."

His farewell pulled at her heart, and made her wish he never had to leave. She felt braver when he was with her, and fueled by courage and nerves, she reached in and put her arms around him. Her hands tightened together around his back, and she pressed her face into his chest in the hopes that he wouldn't see the flush on her cheeks. For a breathtaking moment she was terrified she'd gone too far, too fast, but then he'd wrapped his arms around her shoulders and her fears dissolved.

Izayoi felt small, but safe, as though this was where she fit best in all the world. She could feel his heartbeat, could feel the constant warmth of his body; like nothing else mattered, she closed her eyes and breathed.

"I'll see you again," she muttered against his haori.

"Goodbye, Izayoi."

He pulled away, and she let him go – albeit reluctantly. She watched him go, staying outside until he was well out of sight, her hands folded together over her chest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edit as of 8/16/016:
> 
> mo: an apron like piece that got tied onto the back of women's fancy juni-hitoe. Usually white in color and very delicate looking.
> 
> Inu no Taisho's comment about women and art is actually mostly true of Japan, circa the Heien era and onward. The first known novel in the world was actually written by a Japanese woman in the 11th century -which I will certainly be bringing up again later in the story- and married women were regular purveyors and creators of fine arts and crafts. Of course, women in all facets of history have persevered and found ways to maintain their interests after marriage. Izayoi probably could too, realistically, but she's feeling a little glum here.
> 
> Also, the song I always envision Izayoi playing on her koto in this chapter is called "Cicada's Evening" from the Tale of Princess Kaguya OST. It's just really pretty and I like it a lot.)


	7. Chapter 6

Embarrassingly, she found that she missed him a lot.

He was invading her thoughts, hiding in every corner of her brain –a small movement in the shadows here, a flash of gold there– nothing of real substance, just little things that hovered at the edges of her consciousness. While she was awake she could calm herself down and remind herself to be patient, but her dreams were another matter entirely. More than once she dreamed that he had returned to her courtyard, and she was all aglow with happiness as she rushed into his arms for a tender, friendly embrace. She could almost feel him like sunlight, warm and lovely, remembering the weight of his arms around her and the smell of his clothing.

Izayoi knew what it meant, and recognized the yearning for what it was. She wanted to wish her infatuation away, wished she could undo it, but it was too late. Everyone around her had noticed a change in her behavior; she sighed, stared off at nothing, would find herself suddenly smiling at a memory.

"Don't worry, daughter," her father told her one morning, after the new year had begun. "You'll see him again soon enough."

"Oh," she replied. It took her a long moment to realize that he meant Takemaru, of course. “When do you think that’ll be?”

“Likely after the snow melts down a bit,” he told her, smiling wryly. “He was more than ready to see you sooner, but he tells me he’s otherwise occupied.”

She nodded. Even Takemaru couldn’t serve as a distraction at this point, which put her even more on edge. At least if he was with her she might have been able to attach to him, instead, or redirect her feelings elsewhere.

Soon, by her account, it had reached almost a full season since she'd seen the Inu no Taisho last. The cold of winter was just barely beginning to relinquish its grip, gaps appearing in the snow and allowing tiny, green buds of young plants to push through. The mornings were still bitter, but in the afternoon she could sit with her maids in the main yard beneath the dormant trees, soaking in the tiny bits of light and heat that hit only the surface of the earth. They all kept her company, laughing with her and making her feel a little more at peace. She'd never actually realized that they were the same as her – young women, perhaps alone and away from their families, and desperate for the companionship.

So, over the course of early spring, the three of them all became friends. Chiyo and Natsuki were actually far more amiable without Nodoka around, watching them like a hawk. Once they were fully assumed under Izayoi’s direction, they loosened up a great deal, becoming chatty and fun. Eventually It was like the girls had known each other for years and not months.

"So," she addressed them as they all sat, protected from the chilled ground by an old kimono. "What did you think of me, when we first met?"

The two maids looked at each other, Chiyo’s face going pale while Natsuki smirked. They had obviously talked about it before, amongst themselves.

“You won’t be in any trouble if you tell me,” Izayoi laughed, folding her hands in her lap. “I’m prepared for the worst.”

“I thought you seemed a little strange,” Chiyo said gently, looking down at her embroidery. “Different? I’d never met anyone like you-”

“You can tell the truth, Chi,” Natsuki interrupted, grinning. “We both thought you were spoiled rotten and kind of a nightmare. You never woke up on time! Nodoka was always on our case about making sure you did this and that, but you always got lazy around midafternoon and then we’d get in trouble for it.”

“Natsuki! That’s awful of you!”

“It’s alright,” Izayoi giggled, “It’s not like I didn’t know that I’m heinous. I was even worse as a child, actually, that’s why Nodoka hates me so much.”

“She doesn’t _hate_ you,” Chiyo told her hurriedly, “and besides, you’ve been getting more pleasant.”

Izayoi shrugged as though she were modestly indifferent, but secretly the comment made her feel warm and happy. She liked to think that she was improving at least a little, that her efforts to be a better person weren’t entirely a waste.

“A truth for a truth,” Natsuki said after a moment, leaning in and grinning at Izayoi. “We told you something secret, so now it’s your turn!”

Her pulse quickened and her eyes went wide, looking between the two girls and floundering for a moment before finally asking: “What secrets could I possibly have?”

“You have to have some!” Natsuki laughed, “Every living person has at least a few.”

“We’ll make it easy,” Chiyo giggled alongside her, “so I guess it’s the same question you asked us. What did you think of us when we first met?”

Izayoi felt immediately relieved, and let out the breath she’d been holding. “I didn’t think of you much, if I’m being perfectly honest. I was very preoccupied.”

“With what, do tell,” Natsuki prodded. “Was it that samurai?”

“Maybe a little, I guess.”

“Have you seen him since then?” Chiyo asked, and already her eyes were going starry. Izayoi had picked her out as a staunch romantic, and after evading the topic for weeks she figured she was going to have to talk about Takemaru eventually.

But not today.

“No, I haven’t. Father says I may see him again in spring,” Izayoi said dismissively, “but I answered your question already, so let’s have no more of that.”

Natsuki let out a loud, boisterous laugh, flopping back onto the grass and dragging down a surprised Chiyo with her.

“It looks like we’ve found your secret, miss,” Natsuki cackled gleefully. “You gave yourself away!”

Izayoi blushed, and looked down at her hands. If they thought her greatest secret was Takemaru, then she was in no hurry to correct them.

o0o

Time moved like lacquer sap to Izayoi, oozing and languid and in no hurry to cooperate with her desire for movement. While the girls were excellent company, there were certain things that the three of them couldn’t really talk about. Izayoi was still their mistress; so try as she might to be their friend instead, they were obligated to keep their topics of choice to gentile things. Which, of course, was better than nothing by a long shot – but still boring at times.

Fortunately for her, now that the snow had mostly melted, word came to the Nanases that the lady of the Matsushita clan was going to come to call. Lady Nanase had let out a rather uncharacteristic, high- pitched wail as she took the letter into her hands, and then rather like an eager child she read it out loud:

_My dearest and most honorable sister,_

_My husband sees it fit for me to take leave of our stuffy little mansion and come down to you for a pleasure trip. I can see that he is ushering me out, due to my bouts of spring fever and tendency towards madness this time of year. He insists that he must 'hold things down' here at home, and so he is regrettably (ha!) unable to attend. He sends his deepest apologies, I am sure._

_I have decided to bring my dearest Ayako along, since she is yet unmarried and just as eager to stretch out as I am. I'm sure she will make good company for your Izayoi. Oh, how those little terrors got on in the old days._

_I will arrive soon, and stay for the week. Prepare for me._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Matsushita no Tomiko_

Aunt Tomiko was a rather high spirited woman. Izayoi remembered her even from very early memories; she was her mother's older sister, who'd always been much stouter in health and more aggressive. Tomiko had married extremely well, and had given birth to a few sons before finally having a daughter who was just a touch younger than Izayoi.

Ayako was at least as spirited as her mother. Izayoi had always recalled liking her very, very much; her manner was blunt and fearless. The two girls had always loved sneaking away with each other to climb trees and run around barefoot, coming back sweaty and muddy and laughing. Even when Izayoi started entering into womanhood, she found Ayako was never childish in comparison but rather like a breath of fresh air, or a kindred spirit.

There was a great hum of excitement as the day of their arrival drew near. Lady Nanase sighed and smiled endlessly, unable to contain her happiness.

"I haven't seen my sister in nearly five years," she told her husband for probably the hundredth time. "Oh, how I wish to see little Ayako all grown up!"

The lord of the house patted her hand and willed her to be quiet. Izayoi felt for her mother, being both pleased at the prospect of seeing her cousin and aunt again, but also knowing the sting of longing. She shot her a secret smile, a hint of solidarity, and her mother smiled back.

Of course, Lady Tomiko's arrival was a boisterous and happy affair. Palanquins at the front gate were borne by eunuchs and a few soldiers and followed by a host of maids and servants. The whole entourage was greeted by the Nanase family, surrounded in kind by their best servants, but for all of the richness of the affair, for all of their class, they were ultimately just two families who had missed each other. Formalities were dropped the second the two women laid eyes on each other; both rushed into each other's arms for a hug, tender and with the sort of sisterly affection that Izayoi found herself suddenly a little envious of. Amidst the chatter, her father hung about awkwardly before finally catching their attention long enough to give proper introduction and greeting. Then, Izayoi spotted her cousin.

Ayako was absolutely flawless, in her eyes. She was tall and fresh-faced, with large, brown eyes the color of glossed wood, lean body draped heavily with fashionably colored silks and ornaments. Though Izayoi was two years her senior, she immediately felt a streak of intimidation and envy – her cousin looked ultra-elegant, refined in a way Izayoi had not yet figured out how to manage.

But, for her part, Ayako didn't seem to notice any difference. When the din had quieted and proprieties had finally been put out of the way, she smiled brilliantly and deliberately placed herself next to her.

"You look well!" she said to her, before pressing her hands to her cheeks in excitement.

"Oh, thank you," Izayoi said, still a little dazed. "And how about you, Aya-chan? You're looking very mature for your age."

"I suppose so," Ayako giggled. "The last time we saw each other we were just gangly little half-women, huh? Looks like we’ve both filled out a bit!”

Izayoi immediately loosened up. She laughed and poked her finger at Ayako’s chest, earning a loud squeal followed by a round of giggles. Lord Nanase looked over at them disapprovingly, but it was ignored entirely, and as soon as his back was turned Ayako stuck out her tongue at his retreating form.

Later, after hours’ worth of tea and greetings, they celebrated with a feast for dinner. Between the different bowls of soups being passed around, the simmered winter roots and tender, early spring vegetables, the multitude of meats and fishes, and endless amounts of rice and tea – as well as a healthy dose of sake – there could be no doubt about the family's welcome. What Izayoi found the most interesting, however, was the sheer amount of chatter and laughter. When it was only her parents, things were often quiet. Here, as she talked and joked and soaked in the sheer joy of the energy around her, she came to the conclusion that life otherwise would be unbearable.

Even after the plates had been long cleared, they stayed talking and reminiscing until nearly midnight. The guests were shown to their own rooms, but it didn't take long before Ayako had decided that she wasn't quite finished with some earlier conversations and had snuck into her cousin's chambers. She came in and plunked down next to Izayoi with a little huff. They talked and exchanged secrets and little stories with one another until nearly dawn, and even though they were each tired in the morning, the girls were over the moon to be back together again.

This routine went on the next night, and then the night after as well. Ayako would always go to her own room when everyone else retired and then return to it before the rest of the household had woken up, so nobody was ever any the wiser. On the fifth evening of their visit, their conversation finally turned to marriage.

"I would like to get married," Ayako said, solemnly, as she laid back against the bedding. "The only problem is that no one man is good enough for my liking."

"You’re just a bit picky," Izayoi laughed. "But I think you could get away with pickiness."

"Why is that?"

"You're pretty, and your family is in very good standing. You have a few years yet to make up your mind, I think."

Ayako bit her lip and furrowed her brows.

"Well, I guess so. It’s just that they come in so many varieties of looks and background and I can't for the life of me choose only one! I'm terrified that I'll decide on one type and that I'll become miserable and end up having a whole string of affairs. Although, I suppose nobody could stop me, if I really wanted to have one."

"Scandalous," Izayoi said in mock horror. "Wouldn’t you be able to stop yourself?"

"I would have to, since I don't want to get pregnant. Then everyone would know and I'd be a blot on the family name. How awful that would be!" Ayako said, a little more seriously. "I wish women didn't have to get pregnant. I know for a fact that at least two of my brothers have taken on a whole slew of lovers and mistresses and they never get in trouble with mother or father, but if I so much as look the wrong direction at a man I'm given an earful. That's the only honest reason I haven't started up with men yet."

Izayoi nodded at that, putting her chin into her hands and then sighing.

"What about you, then? I can't believe for even a minute that someone like you would be too proper to consider it, since we're cut from practically the same cloth."

"Oh, no, it's different for me," Izayoi pointed out. "I haven't met nearly the same number of suitors as you have, and I'm the only child in this family. I couldn't risk an affair, even if I felt like it."

Ayako shot up like a bolt, leering. "Are you honestly saying you couldn't think of anyone at all you would put out for?"

"Who on earth taught you to talk that way!" Izayoi shrieked, picking up a pillow and whacking Ayako across the arms. She laughed uproariously and toppled back over, holding her sides.

"You're so red in the face!" she howled. "I never would have guessed you were a prude."

"I'm not a prude! You're just vile!"

Now, however, her blush was fading and she laughed along. The conversation turned to far more interesting things, bits of gossip about who was getting pregnant when they shouldn't have and all of the dirtiest secrets they knew. They talked about literature, about the Tales of Genji and in particular, the more erotic and romantic bits. They talked about human minds and their hidden inner workings. It was all invigorating stuff, like scratching an itch and being overwhelmed by relief. Finally, Ayako gave into her drooping eyelids and chatter-roughened voice and laid down to sleep.

But the earlier conversation didn't quite leave Izayoi, not fully – the issue of affairs and secret meetings hit a nerve that she hadn't expected. Instead of sleeping, she stared at the ceiling and imagined any number of scenarios where she might reasonably be tempted into something like that.

It was, unsurprisingly, not difficult at all.

o0o

For the first time in her life, Izayoi woke up nearly screaming. She caught it in her throat, stifling it before she could wake up her snoozing bedmate. Her heart was slamming away at her ribs, like it wanted to leap clear from her chest and leave her behind. For a long while she sat up in the half dark of pre-dawn, holding her clenched hands to her breast, struggling to breathe evenly. It took some time before she even remembered what she had dreamt about.

It was all vague and hazy – she had been married, living far away in a different home. One moment her unknown, nameless husband was kissing her cheek and in the next she turned from him and stepped into a different man’s arms. He talked passionately to her at first, promising her a life of adventure and intimacy. Then, at the lightest touch of his fingers, her clothing fell away and suddenly he was kissing her _everywhere_ – and that’s when she had woken up.

She debated what she should do. She wanted to talk about it, but it made her feel immensely guilty. Aside from that, there was one detail that gave her pause above all the others: her lover’s eyes had been bright gold.

Izayoi choked back a whimper of self-pity, and turned to go back to sleep. In the morning, she was sure she wouldn’t even remember that she’d woken up in the first place.

o0o

The visit ended much too soon for anyone's liking – except, perhaps, for Lord Nanase, who had been relegated to the sidelines and pushed out of many conversations. The older women embraced, babbling about writing each other more often and keeping each other in on all of the news, while Ayako and Izayoi did precisely the same. Eventually they all parted, reluctantly, and just like that they were gone again.

The lady of the house breathed a deep, long sigh as she watched the little envoy of women and servants depart from the front gates of the mansion.

"I'm going to miss everyone," she said, "the house will be so terribly quiet without them!"

"Yes, dear, it's very sad," her father said, but Izayoi caught a little crinkle around his eyes. He didn't seem upset at all.

Afterwards, it seemed that the women's loneliness had increased to even greater levels than before the visit. Izayoi spent more time around her mother, hoping to emulate the same unadulterated joy from earlier, but to no real success. There were simply too many things she couldn't tell her, and so their conversations weren't nearly as fun or as interesting. Even later, when the princess was with her little group of maids, she tried eke out what little knowledge she could about affairs and desire from their perspectives. But they refused to discuss such vulgar, imperfect things with her, and she refused to elaborate on the details of her feelings anyway. They’d likely assume she was referring to Takemaru anyway. It seemed dishonest and uncomfortable, and so she adamantly refused to talk about men with them anymore.

It left her feeling raw and strange. She sat at her writing desk late one night and wrote a long letter to her cousin, filled with admissions and stories and well wishes, but in the morning she reread the whole thing and decided that she couldn't send it. There was no assurance that it wouldn't be read by someone that had no business seeing it – without the instant gratification of a response, and the danger of her secrets being known, it wasn't worth it. She ripped it to shreds and threw it into the fire.

She felt so painfully naive and awkward in her own body. It was the first time since puberty she'd felt so terrible, like she was itching to get out of her own skin. Nobody could help her, and so she spent long hours locked up in her room, not wanting to be bothered by anyone, trying to understand who she was and who she had become. Parts of herself that she'd always taken for granted were now blaring sources of shame and embarrassment.

In all her brooding, she'd failed to notice something tiny and eager creeping up on her. There was a sharp little pinprick at the thin skin of her neck, and she gasped in shock and reached to scratch it away. What came away on her palm actually caused her to cry out in alarm.

It was a flea. A rather large one, bigger than any she'd ever seen before, but something was distinctly wrong with it – it wore clothes, and its eyes were not tiny and invisible but large and almost comically googly.

"What on earth!" she breathed, poking it with the index finger of her other hand. The tiny creature looked dazed, surprised at having been removed from his lunch so swiftly and harshly.

"You wouldn't happen to know where the princess is, would you?"

She dropped it on the ground. It gave a wiry little holler of alarm, but Izayoi was too concerned about the fact that it was looking for her and that it could speak. There was a beat of stillness before she finally managed to say something.

"I'm she. Who in heaven's name are you?"

"Oh, how rude of me," the little flea said, attaching to her skirt before hopping a little to return to her still open palm. "My name is Myoga! I'm a vassal of the honorable Inu no Taisho!"

Now she laughed, because it seemed wholly absurd. The Inu no Taisho was magnificent, powerful, and to imagine him having such an underwhelming vassal made her shake her head.

"You're… you're so tiny," she managed. "Are you serious, or is he playing a trick on me?"

Myoga put his lower set of hands on his hips and crossed the upper set, in a supreme show of indignance.  "He told me to look for someone beautiful and refined, and all I've found is a disrespectful upstart! You are Izayoi-hime, aren't you?"

"Yes! I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting you," she finally said, shrugging and still smiling brightly. "He called me beautiful and refined? Tell me, Myoga-san, is he feeling well?"

"My lord is doing just fine! He only asked me to come to see how you were faring in his absence."

Izayoi felt a little prickle of endearment – he had never sent a messenger for her before. She stood up a little straighter, smiling now.

"I'm well, thank you. What on earth has he been doing all this time, if you don't mind me asking?"

The little flea hedged.

"I don't know if I'm really allowed to divulge my lord's activities, at the moment. But he wanted me to let you know that he intends to make a short visit before he’s finished, likely before the moon cycle is through."

"So soon?" she said airily, trying not to betray her excitement and pleasure. "Well, then, let him know that I'll be anticipating his arrival. Was that all, Myoga-san?"

"Actually," the flea muttered, "I have a request of you."

"What might that be?"

"I need a bit of food before I return to my lord's side. It's quite a journey!"

She tilted her head in curiosity. "Of course. Is there anything you'd especially like?"

"Ah, well," he said shakily, peering up at her almost nervously. "Fleas require blood for sustenance."

Her face drained of all color and she opened her mouth, but nothing came out except for a squeak.

"I… I suppose you could…"

"Wonderful!" he squeaked, wasting no time in jumping back up to her neck and poking the skin. She flinched but endured it, considering that for a demon, he seemed completely harmless. When he detached, he puffed a contented sigh and thanked her graciously.

"A gem among humans," he complimented, "such delicious blood! And beautiful, too! I can see why my lord enjoys your company, hime-sama!"

Izayoi blushed and wished him well, before sending the little oddball on his way. She settled in.

So he was to return before the end of the moon cycle. It would be a boldfaced lie to pretend she wasn't beyond excited – she also knew that once she saw him, her heart would be light. It was only his absence that caused her pain; when she was with him she always felt like she could breathe easily, even when he was annoyed with her, even when they had little disagreements, no matter what. She came back out of her shell, ready for the evening when he would tap on her door and take her away.

Only it didn’t happen at night, this time. It was in the middle of the daytime, one warm and sleepy sort of afternoon, when Myoga hopped up onto her shoulder and told her she should go to the forest-front gates.

“Is he here?”

“Yes!”

“ _Now_?”

“Go and see,” Myoga laughed, before bounding away. Izayoi stood up from where she’d been reading, creeping through the house and trying not to be seen. She grabbed her sandals from her room, carrying them in her hands to avoid making any noise, and then the moment she thought the coast was clear, she bolted.

It felt a lot like the day she’d gotten lost. She had to force herself not to laugh out loud and she ran, her robes and thick hakama dragging on the ground behind her. Outside, it was a little easier to avoid getting caught, and she ducked around the guards and slipped out through the gate.

"Taisho!" she cried, flinging her arms around his waist, mindful of his armor but so glad to see him that she completely ignored any thought of this being a rather too familiar way to welcome him. He returned it, though, arms dropping to her waist and pulling her tighter against him.

"Izayoi," he said, looking down at her. "I'm sorry I was gone for so long."

"Oh, never mind it! I'm just glad you're back again," she told him. "Although I can't imagine what you were up to, since Myoga wouldn't give any of it up to me."

"So the flea made good on his word? Excellent, I was afraid he wouldn't reach you."

"Is he really that bad of a vassal?" she asked, pulling away from him a little, before slipping her arms out from around his middle.

"He's the worst, and he knows it. But he's a been a friend of mine for years now, so I'll continue to put up with it."

“I'm sure you also knew that he was a shameless flatterer, then?"

The Inu no Taisho's face went pale. "What did he say?"

"He called me beautiful, elegant, refined, said I tasted good…"

"I should crush him!" he sort of barked, looking distinctly peeved. "He has no decency at all. He's always doing that, you know. He likes pretty girls the best, so he says the most ridiculous things and I'm still trying to break his bad habits-"

"Pretty girls?"

He shrugged, and held up a hand to inspect it, like he was feigning disinterest. It was a miserably failed attempt.

"By his standards, of course, not mine." He must have realized belatedly that it was a horrible thing to say to a young woman, because he attempted to correct himself quickly. "I mean… not that you aren't, but I think I meant that he just gets distracted too easily."

“Does he,” she said, smiling up at him. “I’m curious, though, why are you here for me now instead of at night?”

He appeared to welcome the change in subject, smiling broadly and taking her hand in his to pull her along behind him. She clutched it, her cheeks warm as she tried to keep up with him.

“I don’t have long, but it’s better than nothing at all,” he told her. She glanced up at his face, and realized she’d only seen him in daylight a handful of times; with the dappled sunlight hitting him he looked different. His eyes met hers.

She laughed out loud, mostly a nervous reaction from being caught staring.

After a moment or two of walking, he veered off of their usual path. Izayoi wondered where they were meant to be going – just as he took her over an old, grassy knoll. She had been here only a few times in her life before, but it was way off any beaten paths and not well known to the villagers in this area. She had to wonder why.

It was beautiful. Over the crest of the hill, there was a basin like space with a large pond in the middle, surrounded on all sides by long, weedy grasses. Tiny spring flowers were peeking up between the spaces of green, but by far the most striking feature were the cherry trees, heavily laden with masses of buds and blooms.

“We won’t be seen?” she asked breathlessly, coming down the side of the hill and taking it all in.

“Not at all,” he told her, a sly grin on his lips.

Izayoi’s heart was lifting, ready to burst. She laughed, though it was mixed partway with a shout as she took off running. It was on impulse, but the air whipped through her hair as she ran and floated through her silken clothing and made her feel like she was flying. Beneath the canopy of a cherry tree, she kicked off her shoes and felt the bare grass on her feet. Her joy seemed suddenly endless.

At some point he must have caught up to her, though she couldn’t decide when. The Inu no Taisho leaned heavily against the trunk, sending a flurry of little pink petals down upon her upturned face. She flung out her arms to receive them.

“Do it again,” she cried, shutting her eyes. She heard him chuckle, before giving the trunk another great shove. It caught in her hair like little pieces of snow, and dizzy from trying to catch them all she gave her top robes a great heave and laid them out on the grass so she could sit, leaving just her kosode and hakama. In a huff, she laid down across the layers and layers of fabric, hair splayed in a mass of tangled black around her.

“Are you alright?” he laughed, crouching and leaning over her. He was backlit by pink and gold, fuzzy from her unsteady vision.

“Mm, it’s only spring madness,” she said dreamily. “I got so tired of being cooped up all winter that I couldn’t help myself.”

“I know what you mean.” He tugged her upright, sitting beside her and then pulling leftover petals out from her hair. For a moment they sat in pleasant quiet, her eyelids fluttering closed softly as he ran his fingers through her hair for any last bits of debris. The touch was intimate, endearing.

When her eyes opened again she noticed something she hadn’t before: there was a new sword stuck through his obi, where before there’d been none. It was a rather peculiar looking thing, a sorry excuse for a weapon, the wrappings around the hilt frayed and shredded and the sheath dull and banged up.

“Taisho,” she asked, “when did you get that?”

“Hm?”

“That sword?”

He tapped the hilt with his claws absently, as if confirming her question. “Since I saw you last. I didn’t know you took an interest in weaponry.”

“I don’t, but I’m curious about this one,” she shrugged. “It’s… a bit sad to look at, if I’m being honest.”

To her surprise, he laughed and untucked it from its place at his side. “Take it out,” he instructed, still lit with amusement.

She did as she was told, gripping the sheath firmly and giving it a quick tug. Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t what she found: a rusty old katana, nicked and missing chunks of steel here and there. It was, in short, the ugliest thing she’d ever seen.

“I’m glad the spell works,” he murmured, watching as she turned it over in her hands and experimentally ran her thumb over the blade’s edge. It was so dull that it couldn’t even cut through her skin.

“What do you mean by spell?”

“Here,” he said, and took it from her. His eyes slid shut for a moment, he took one deep breath, and then… it _changed_. The plain old blade transformed in a flash of light into a massive, broad bladed weapon. In his hands it was a totally different object; even the metal seemed magical and strange, in one moment silvery like metal and in the next, pale as bone. “Tessaiga’s appearance is meant to deceive the untrained eye.”

“That’s its name? Tessaiga,” she said, in awe of it. “Why does it have a spell on it.”

“It’s very powerful, in the right hands,” he explained, sheathing it. The massive blade disappeared into the narrow wooden case, snug, its true power hidden once more. “I haven’t tested it yet, but I was told that it could slay a hundred demons on the spot. There’s a… bit of a learning curve there.”

“Is that why you left?” she asked, moving in closer to him.

“Yes.” He leaned back on his hands, his legs stretched out in front of him so that his body formed one long line. “There are still secrets I haven’t begun to fully understand. Totosai told me-”

“Totosai?”

“Ah, the demon who forged Tessaiga for me. He’s an old friend,” he said, before returning to his train of thought. “He told me it might take some time before I figure out how to put it to best use, but I’m not bothered by that. I think it won’t be much longer, now.”

“And what did you have it made for,” she pressed, “if you already have a sword, and you’re already so powerful?”

He looked distant for only a moment, his gaze tender. “It isn’t really for myself.”

It seemed cryptic; she wondered if perhaps he meant it to be a gift for his son, as an inheritance or something. She didn’t think too much of it, beyond that, though imagining him giving gifts of such value warmed her.

“But I’ll leave it there,” he finally said, tilting his head at her. “There are still some secrets I’m keeping for myself. What did you do while I was gone?”

She shook her head, clicking her tongue in mock annoyance at him. “You are a master at evading me, aren’t you?”

“I’ve gotten very good at it.”

“Horrible man,” she giggled, swatting his leg. “I had visitors while you were away. My mother’s sister and my cousin, Ayako, actually. It was so much fun that I nearly forgot about you!”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he laughed, raising and eyebrow and not taking her bait. “Elaborate.”

Izayoi settled in, telling him all about their visit and about Ayako, talking about her mother and aunt, and how she wished they’d never had to leave. She talked herself nearly raw, and by the time she finally finished up the sun was low in the sky.

“I should return you before people start to wonder where you’ve gone off to,” he said at last, standing and stretching his arms over his head. She pulled herself up, shaking out the grass from her robes and trying to slide them back on in mostly the correct order. Izayoi didn’t even notice him pulling something from one of the trees, before taking her hand and leading her home.

The whole way she felt content and unseasonably warm, and when he stopped at the forest’s edge she blinked as though waking from a dream.

“There are guards everywhere,” he told her. “Getting back in may be a bit of a hassle. I think I may have to leave you to your own devices this time.”

“It’s alright,” she said softly. “If anyone asks I’ll tell them I was viewing the blossoms. That’s true, at least.”

“Here’s something that might help,” he replied, holding out a thin branch of cherry flowers for her. She took it, her face heating up, the scent of them as sweet and delicate as honey.

“Thank you.” She looked down at them, not meeting his eyes, her slender fingers picking the petals off of one flower. “When will I see you again?”

“Soon,” he said soothingly, reaching for her and tipping her chin with a finger. Her breath caught short in her throat, suddenly aware of him and of herself and of the flowers, clutched in her hands. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Izayoi.”

“I’ll see you then,” she chirped, her voice forced.

She turned away, walking back onto the mansion grounds without looking back at him, her heart thundering in her chest. There was chatter all around her, first from the guards and then from servants, and finally her parents, all asking her why she would disobey them after so long without a single incident. Nobody asked her about her cherry blossoms, or about the blush staining her cheeks.

o0o

It was sometime after dark, when she’d placed the branch in a little vase on her writing desk and started to settle in for bed that she realized what was happening to her. He had come during daylight hours, simply to see her and speak to her, when it could have waited for a few more weeks. She hadn’t told him about her talk of marriage, or about her dreams, or about how she craved him like air or water. To her, he was sunlight, the harbinger of spring and of liveliness, but he was also cool moonlight. He was everything in the world, all at once.

But at the same time, he was only a man. Strong and powerful, perhaps, but emotional and real as though he were a human. She wanted to tell him every story in the world. She wanted to fall asleep beside him, knowing that she’d be safe the whole night through. She wanted to feel his fingers running through her hair again, to hear his low, deep voice telling her of his life’s journey. She wanted, more than anything in the world, the safety and pressure of his arms wrapped tight around her little shoulders – or his lips pressed against her forehead, her cheek, her own lips.

Izayoi wanted _him_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edit as of 9/7/2016:
> 
> I added a lot of new stuff to this chapter... over 1,000 words, I believe? I'm pretty happy with it though.
> 
> obi: a sash that gets tied around the waist  
> kosode: a shortish sleeved kimono, in Izayoi's case, on of the bottom layers of her whole getup  
> hakama: wide legged, split "skirt" (pants?)  
> Tales of Gengi: one of the first novels ever written.
> 
> From what I understand, the cherry blossom season is usually around late March to early April, if anyone was wondering about the timeframe.)


	8. Chapter 7

She tried to bear the rest of his absence with as much grace as possible. It went about as she expected – horrible, more often than not, as her heart twisted in her chest with desire and longing for him. In the daytime she could distract herself with little things, like embroidering with her mother, or talking to Chiyo and Natsuki, or writing silly letters to Ayako. But whenever nighttime fell her thoughts were occupied by the Inu no Taisho; she wondered where he was, what he might be doing, and if he was thinking of her as she thought of him.

Of course, there was one thing she’d quite forgotten about; Takemaru would be visiting a second time. This meeting was arranged for the beginning of the month, just as the weather became warmer at last.

Izayoi felt immediately torn, both wanting to please her parents and the suitor that they loved so well, but also knowing it was dishonest to string him along if she felt nothing for him. That kind of thinking became dangerous; she’d made up her mind months ago that she should marry him, and that her options were so limited that there wasn’t much choice anyway. What would she do if he rejected her, or if she turned him away? There was nobody else lined up for her, nobody else who wanted her.

The problem was that she’d gotten her first taste of desire, and now she was hungry for more. It was an impossible wish that the Inu no Taisho might feel any romantic inclinations towards her. And, more obviously, there was the issue of his kind and species; Izayoi was human, and he was not. It was best to put thoughts of him far, far behind her.

Takemaru was going to be her husband, if he asked. That was all there was to it.

When he arrived, he was greeted far more casually, more like a family member and friend than a suitor. Izayoi had almost forgotten the shape of his face and the sound of his voice – she was taken aback when she saw him, as though he had changed since they’d last met.

“I hope you’re well, Izayoi-hime,” he said pleasantly. “I’ve missed you.”

“I am, thank you,” she responded, but didn’t address the last part.

He stayed for a total of two nights. It was becoming clear that he fit in quite well with her parents, slipping easily into their conversations and charming them both with his polite, respectful sense of humor. Everything about him should have been right, from his strong body to his soft voice, but Izayoi felt that there was always something lacking. On the second night with them, he sat beside her as she read a scroll of poetry, just the two of them lit by the brazier.

From another person’s perspective, she guessed this would have been romantic. He watched her trace her fingers vertically along the page, mouthing the words to herself as she went, and he moved closer. There was nothing untoward about his actions, nothing to suggest inappropriate behavior or danger. All the same, it put her on edge.

“Perhaps you could read one aloud,” he suggested quietly, voice lowered.

“Alright,” she replied, eyes skipping over the surface of the paper to find one she liked. Slowly, with an air of lyrical drama, she spoke:

“ _Love's only weakness_  
_Is also its greatest strength:_  
_It defies reason.”_

The words themselves gave her a lot to think about. She sighed when she was done, her hands resting on the scroll, and then she rolled it up.

“I think I’ve read enough for an evening,” she told him, standing slowly and avoiding his eyes. “And I’ve kept you long enough from a decent night’s rest.”

“I don’t mind,” Takemaru laughed. He took her hand into his, before she could turn to leave, and Izayoi froze in place. “I couldn’t imagine a better way to spend this night.” He brought her knuckles up to his lips, just brushing them gently with a small and polite kiss. Then he bowed, wished her a goodnight, and was gone.

Izayoi wasn’t sure what she should think of it. Every sign pointed to this being the right thing, the proper and correct choice – and yet she couldn’t commit to him. She felt as though she had tricked him somehow, that his affection was only wasted on her. It left her feeling guilty and unsettled.

She liked Takemaru. That much could be said for certain; he was never unkind to her or her family, genuine in his pursuit of her, and though he was old enough to be established and respected, he was still young enough to be handsome and of sound mind. The more she dwelled on all of the reasons she could love him, the surer she was that she shouldn’t marry him. It was as Ayako had explained to her before; it was far worse to marry a man you liked than one you didn’t, if you were in any danger of falling in love with someone else. It was always easier to justify an affair if you hated your husband, but if you cared for him, all that lay in wait for you was heartbreak and shame.

But it was all hypothetical. Izayoi tried to remind herself that she was _not_ yet married to Takemaru, and that any thought in her head of having an affair was terribly presumptuous. She may be infatuated with the Inu no Taisho, but the cold, stinging truth of it was that he was never going to be hers.

This, of course, did not stop her from imagining it anyway.

o0o

After Takemaru had left – with a promise to return soon – Izayoi found herself growing more and more agitated. A single visit was tentative, a second a sign of good favor, and a third… a third visit was almost as good as a proposal.

Her mother told her this one warm evening, having slipped into Izayoi’s room after night fell to speak with her daughter. Lady Nanase took one of her daughter’s hands into her own, a look of delight crossing her face while she explained what might happen the next time the pair met.

“I’m sure, daughter. He’s going to ask you to marry him.”

“How can you be certain, haha-ue?” Izayoi asked, but mostly just to be contrary. Her mother pulled a face at her.

“I think it’s obvious to anyone with eyes, dear child,” she said slightly derisively. “Every maid in the mansion has been talking about it and plotting the details, as though it were their own wedding.”

“I’m glad that I can keep them entertained!” Izayoi laughed, though a tiny knot of anxiety settled in her stomach. “Everyone already has my future decided for me, I guess.”

“You wouldn’t turn him down, though?” her mother asked, voice serious despite the gentle tone. “Unless… there is some reason you feel his character is undesirable.”

“No,” Izayoi said quickly, “it’s nothing like that. He’s perfectly good, and kind, and noble, and I can’t think of a single reason I shouldn’t want to be his wife.”

“But you’re afraid.”

“Yes.”

There was a beat of silence between the women. Izayoi stared at her mother’s hand, soft where it held her own, choking back all of the truths she wished she could tell. And then, quietly, Lady Nanase began spoke.

“I haven’t always been old, you know,” she laughed softly. “I was younger than you when I came to this place. I’ve never told you how hard the first years were, have I?”

“You never once complained,” Izayoi replied, still not meeting her mother’s eyes. “What was it like?”

“Frightening. Horrible. I was only sixteen and I’d never been so far away from home in all my life,” she explained. “Your grandfather was nothing short of an absolute tyrant – everyone hated him. I know it must be wrong of me to speak of the dead this way, but my father-in-law… I don’t think he was even a man, sometimes. Maybe a demon in a man’s body.”

Izayoi’s eyes shot up, wide.

“Your father was the only son he’d ever had. He was treated so badly, and when his sisters married off one by one he was left alone to deal with the estate.”

“And what about you?”

“I was just a girl. He’d married me out of necessity, and I don’t think my own parents knew how dire the situation here really was. When all was said and done, it was only me, your father, and the late Lord Nanase… and really only a smattering of maids. I felt so terribly alone,” she admitted, now folding both hands over Izayoi’s. “But I’d never realized how lonely your father had been. He had dealt with everything for so long by himself and never asked for help.

“I came to admire him a great deal – and once I did, it was easy to fit in beside him. Simple things, like offering him tea in the morning, or my lap when he was tired after a long day… but those things meant the world to him. Before I’d even realized it was happening I had fallen so deeply in love with him, and our future didn’t seem as frightening.”

“How did you know for sure?” Izayoi asked, her heart in her throat. “How could you tell you loved him?”

“I wanted to see his smile,” her mother said, her eyes fond and distant, lost in memories. “I wanted to be beside him every day. I felt such happiness even in the quietest evenings together. Whenever he was gone, I longed to see him again.”

Izayoi felt her eyes blurring, nearly without warning. She reached to swipe at her eyes, turning her head away, but her mother caught her tears and pulled her into a tight and comforting embrace. Against the soft silk of her chest, surrounded by her warmth and the light scent of her perfume, the tears refused to stop.

“My lovely Izayoi,” she murmured into her daughter’s hair, holding her close. “Your heart will not betray you.”

Izayoi did not know how to tell her that she was wrong, that her heart was traitorous and destructive. She didn’t know how to explain the sadness and loss she felt, the realization she was now facing. In the safety and shelter of her mother’s arms, she cried herself almost sick. It was like a kind of catharsis, and when her tears finally stopped, it seemed as though the world was lighter all around her.

At last she was given a kiss to the temple, tucked in as though she were a small child, and left alone to sleep.

Izayoi laid still, evening out her breathing, remarkably clear headed for the first time in a long time. She thought, for a long time, weighing her options against each other and deciding what she must do. There were a few things she knew for sure now:

The first – that she was in love with the Inu no Taisho. It was painfully clear, down to the last detail; she loved his smile, his laughter, his deep, rumbling voice and stern brows. When they were together she felt bright and alive, and when they were apart she eagerly anticipated the moment they would be together again. Even the most innocent of touches made her cheeks light up in flames and her heart race, but in all the chaos of her emotions she felt calm and sure. She loved him, and it felt good to finally allow herself to admit it.

The second – there was only one way to deal with it. She must tell him that she loved him and she must be rejected; he would likely never want to see her or speak to her again after that, and even if he was too polite to cut her off completely things would never be the same. That was going to be the hardest part, to be sure, but after a while it would stop hurting and her heart would once more be free.

The final thing she knew – she would accept Takemaru’s proposal, when it came. Eventually they would be wed, and her life would go on as it was always meant to. Her parents would be satisfied, and he would be satisfied, and perhaps even she would find that it had been the right choice.

She breathed deep. There was nothing left to do but wait and come clean.

o0o

The Inu no Taisho returned again, this time for good, only two weeks after she had seen him last. He tapped on her door and Izayoi steeled herself – tonight she was going to tell him the truth and mark the end of their beautiful, strange, short-lived friendship.

It hurt the moment she saw him, tall and beaming.

“You look like you’re in good spirits,” she laughed nervously.

“I am.”

“Are you going to offer me any kind of explanation?”

“In due time,” he teased, hauling her up into his arms in a rough motion. She squeaked, her hands fisting in the fur on his back. “Although I think I’m just going to show you instead.”

“What are you talking about?” she laughed, clinging to him as he shot up into the air and far above the trees. “I’ve never seen you so worked up before.”

He said nothing, just choosing to grin. Up above the tree line she could see forever, the land stretching and undulating before them, and behind them she saw their hair intertwining in the wind, silver and black together. Izayoi sighed softly, trying to rationalize her happiness – if this was their last night together, she may as well enjoy it. She laid her head against his shoulder, her arms snaking around his neck.

“Izayoi,” he finally said, few moments later, “have you ever seen the ocean?”

“No,” she murmured. “I can’t say that I have.”

“Then you should look up.”

Her head raised, and her breath stopped short in her lungs. Before them was a stretch of wide, endless sea, sparking in the pale spring moonlight. The stars looked infinite, mirrored by calm water, the shore made up of white sand and bleached driftwood. She knew she was seeing it from a view no human had ever seen before. She gasped aloud.

“It’s lovely,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

He smiled gently at her, his grip around her tightening slightly. “You should know that there isn’t a soul out on this beach tonight.”

“Why is that important?”

“Because if there was, I wouldn’t dream of doing this.”

She almost asked what he meant, but suddenly her gut was lifting and the ground was rushing up to meet them. Izayoi screamed despite herself, holding him so tightly she was afraid he might choke. He only laughed, still dropping out of the air. Her eyes were squeezed shut, terrified that there might be an impact, but there was nothing but the gentle tap of his feet hitting the sand.

He let her down, and she had to hold onto his arm to keep from collapsing.

“Are you alright?”

“You’re asking me if I’m alright after almost giving me a heart attack,” she giggled, clinging to him like a lifeline. “But yes, I’m alright, and that was… fun?”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. Then he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face the water.

Once more she was struck with awe, watching the waves crash to the shore and the moon reflect bright, white light all around her. Izayoi was overcome with the urge to become one with it, to sink her bare skin into the water and feel its power all around her. She picked up the hem of her sleeping yukata, kicked off her zori, and rushed to the edge.

She shrieked when the water hit her feet and ankles.

“Did something bite you?” he asked.

“No,” she cried, wiggling her toes into the wet sand. “The water is freezing!”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know,” she laughed. “It gets better when you’re used to it, though.”

“Hm, does it?”

She smiled serenely, leaning down to dip her hands in slowly, and then as fast as she could manage she scooped a handful of frigid water and flung it at him. Though she hadn’t been aiming, it hit him squarely in the face, drenching his bangs and sticking them down to his forehead. She gaped for a moment, holding her breath, and then she broke into a huge grin.

“That was for earlier,” she explained, watching his eyes narrow dangerously at her.

And then she turned from him and _bolted_ , running as fast her legs could carry her. In a sense it was instinctive – she knew she wasn’t going to get away with such a bold move, not without some retribution. In another, deeper sense, it was permission for him to chase after her, to catch her. It came as no surprise when scant seconds after the act had been committed she felt his arms around her waist, picking her up off of the ground as she screamed and kicked and laughed at him. Her back was pressed firmly to his chest, her hands gripping his forearms as she struggled for freedom.

“Very funny,” he growled into her ear. A shudder ripped down her spine, but she kept on laughing anyway. “You’ve gotten awfully brave, haven’t you?”

“You always knew I was,” she said, turning her head away from him in mock-haughtiness. “Although I think you actually accused me of being stupid instead.”

“I should drop you,” he threatened, though it lacked any substance. His arms only tightened around her, bringing her in even closer.

“Go ahead,” she retorted, and then went still and relaxed as though she fully expected to fall. “You earned what you got earlier.”

He suddenly released her, letting her slip back down onto the soft but solid sand. She whirled on him, hands fisted on her hips saucily and her hair a maelstrom around her face. He was smiling, self-satisfied and unbearably handsome in his cockiness. Izayoi’s façade faltered; her heart seemed to stop and restart jerkily and the careful expression of annoyance that she had arranged faded.

“It didn’t bother you that much, did it?” he asked, noticing her change in behavior. “If it did, I won’t do it again.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” she said hastily. “I was just being silly, that’s all.”

He didn’t seem to entirely buy it, but had the sense not to press for more information. She turned to face the sea, holding the skirt of her sleeping yukata limply in her hands.

“It’s beautiful,” he said quietly, more solemn now. “I’ve seen it more times than I can count, but it always seems to change. It’s never the same shoreline.”

“Do you ever get tired of all this beauty?” she asked, voice amused but touched with the barest hint of sadness. “You see so many incredible things. Do they ever lose their impact?”

“Not at all. Even in my lifetime I’ll never see everything,” he explained, looking up at the swirl of clouds and stars above them. “Just when I think I understand the world, something comes along and proves me wrong.”

Izayoi nodded, but her mind was far away from him and from her own body – her heart ached with longing, the reminder that she must tell him the truth and move on.

But she didn’t want to. She didn’t feel she had the strength to say anything now, and ruin this perfect, beautiful night. The waves hit her feet, over and over, the motion of the water calming and repetitive. She decided that perhaps it could wait for a different night, when they were closer to home, when she didn’t need him to take her back.

“What are you thinking about?”

His voice broke her train of thought abruptly, and when she turned to him he was looking her over. She smiled apologetically, bringing her shoulders up in a shrug.

“Nothing important, I promise,” she laughed. “I think I agree with you, though. There’s always some mystery to unravel, and when you come to the end of it you just find a while new one waiting.”

One topic of conversation turned to another, and then another, and as usual time seemed to stop its flow all around them. They stayed up talking until dawn had nearly broken, sitting in the sand and combing through their thoughts – it was the kind of happy, comforting talk that left her sated and warm. The cold water had turned her fingers and toes wrinkled after a while of letting them soak, her hair and skin soft and raw all at once from salty air. When she licked her lips she could practically taste the sea on them.

Even as he brought her home, the morning sun beginning to peer over the horizon, she felt like her physical body and soul were split between two places. She may live in her parents’ mansion during the day, but her soul wanted to wander endlessly, and find all of the places where she felt peace. In her subconscious she knew that her task had not been completed, and that she would still have to do it soon or risk utter heartbreak.

But for the moment, life felt simple.

o0o

She had known that things couldn't stay that way forever. Takemaru’s third visit loomed upon her, and then far too soon it had arrived. Her parents, of course, were delighted to see that he had returned – this was exactly what they’d been hoping for, and if all went well during this visit, the long process of getting their daughter married would finally come to its end. He was welcomed with great enthusiasm, but Izayoi stayed quiet and reserved and watched him carefully.

Izayoi had gone over exactly how to respond to him in her mind. It would be dishonest, she’d decided, to allow him to marry her immediately – she would not spend the first few months or so of her marriage pining over someone else. He deserved better than that. She would have to find something to put it off, some reason that made sense.

She’d run out of time to come up with an excuse. After a long tea and a thorough welcoming, he asked her to take a turn outside with him. Izayoi swallowed down her uneasiness and accepted.

While she’d been in his presence before, this felt different. In place of his usual, subtle confidence he seemed quiet and thoughtful. Perhaps he even seemed a little nervous to her, his fingers flexing and unfurling at his side while they walked.

"Hime," he finally said, breaking her out of her thoughts. "There's something I have to tell you."

She stopped walking, turning to him and waiting for him to keep speaking.

"I've thought about what I should say for a long time," he was saying, jaw set sort of stubbornly. "And I’ve finally decided that I should just tell you the truth.”

He looked at her for a moment, eyes searching her face. He took one of her hands into his own, his fingers wrapped around hers, keeping her still.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” he told her, voice lowered and rough. “But it’s more than that, you… you are so gentle and kind, and so immensely talented-”

"No," she interrupted, painfully aware of where this conversation was going. "You've got that all wrong. I'm terribly selfish, and childish, and-"

"And you’re modest above all else,” he laughed, though it was tentative. "I'm convinced of your good character, and nothing you could say to me would change my mind."

She bit her lip, looking down hastily. If he knew the truth, he likely would change his mind about her; what man would want a woman infatuated with a demon?

"I feel drawn to you,” he admitted, pulling her closer. “I want to continue to see you from now on, and forever. I'd give my life to you, if you wanted it."

She felt herself shaking her head, still not meeting his eyes.

“I’d never ask that of you,” she whispered.

“Just one more reason for me to care for you,” he responded. “Be my wife, Izayoi.”

She sucked in a breath, looking back up at him. His face was pleading, serious, but shining with adoration. She felt a wave of regret that she could not give him what he wanted in return, that he would be doomed to a wife who did not love him as passionately as he loved her. Her mother’s story rang through her head, a beacon of optimism despite her feelings. Steeling herself, trying to remember everything she had been told, she finally gathered enough courage to speak.

"A year," she said. He looked a little confused, but she pressed onward. "I’ll be yours in a year, Setsuna no Takemaru."

“Why such a long wait?”

“I only… I want you to be certain,” Izayoi lied. “I know many men change their minds and fall out of love, and I won’t have you married to me if you would rather be with someone else.”

“I can’t imagine wanting anyone else,” he laughed, the sound light and relieved. “But I will wait the year out, if it pleases you.”

In all his happiness and awe, he seemed almost boyish. This was certainly the appropriate choice for her, this young, strong human man who adored her. But she was filled with dread and fear, not happiness, and certainly not peacefulness. He leaned in to kiss her cheek and she let him, though she wanted to flinch away from him. When she didn't show any outward sign of rejection, he sighed happily, and pressed his lips to hers.

Izayoi was stunned for a moment – she'd never, ever been kissed like this before. His hands still held onto hers, pulling her a little closer to him. Her mind was totally blank for a moment and she didn't push back, or wrench her hands away, though she knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she should. It wasn't anything but chaste. It lingered, perhaps, but it was soft, close mouthed, and gentle. Not at all bad for her first kiss, she supposed. When he pulled away he was smiling, almost dreamlike.

She felt so horrible. He cared about her so, so much, and all she could give him in return for it was half-truths and flimsy promises. When he'd kissed her, she could only think about how she wished it was someone else. Tears started to well up in her eyes and she was overwhelmed by revulsion for herself.

"Are you alright, Izayoi?" he asked her, softly, stroking the sides of her hands with his thumbs.

She nodded quickly, blinking them away as fast as she could, and then she forced herself to smile at him. "I'm fine.”

That seemed to be enough for him – she wondered if he was easy to fool because he was only a human, or if it was because he was so happy that he only saw precisely what he wanted to see. Either way, he moved in again and pressed his lips back over hers.

This time, when she closed her eyes, she imagined a different man holding her. Takemaru’s hands moved from hers to hold her face; they could have just as easily belonged to someone else. She kissed him back this time, trying to make herself forget about how wrong it all seemed. He pulled away from her first, smiling softly at her and then leading her back into the mansion.

Izayoi told no one about the kiss. She was ashamed of it, and of herself, but she said nothing and showed none of her fear or anger. All around her there was a buzz of congratulations, her mother and father welcoming him to their family and already beginning to discuss plans and arrangements for the future.

“Why are you making him wait for a year, Izayoi?” her mother asked her privately when she could spare a moment away from the din. “Has he not already waited for you?”

“I wanted to give us more time,” Izayoi responded, looking her mother directly in the eye and trying to stay firm. “I thought if I could get to know him better before then, maybe the first few years of our marriage wouldn’t be so hard.”

“Well, I won’t fault you for that,” Lady Nanase sighed, giving Izayoi’s hand a reassuring little squeeze. “It seems you’ve been listening to me this whole time, after all.”

Eventually the noise died back down, and night fell. Everyone parted for the evening and readied for bed, though not before Takemaru gave her yet another quick kiss to the cheek and a hopeful, satisfied smile.

She wanted to lay down and not get back up again. Izayoi couldn't make herself feel much except for a vague, terribly numbing sense of disappointment with herself. She felt angry and desperate for an answer, for someone that she could tell this to, but there was no one who could possibly help. Her cousin was far away, her parents were certainly out of the question, her maids would never understand it, and the Inu no Taisho, of course...

She could tell him, if she had to tell someone. It was just that she didn't want to, because it felt like such a blatant betrayal of his trust. There was no good reason for it to feel like betrayal – he didn't love her, he didn't want her like that, so why should he care? She choked on it, her heart up in her throat, unable to breathe. She still hadn’t told him the truth, and now it seemed like it would be even harder than before – but she _must_ do it, she had to cut off contact with him so that she could move on and begin afresh.

Izayoi thought of the disappointment he might show her, or of her life without him in it, and she finally broke down completely and allowed herself to cry.

"Such a stupid thing to cry about," she scolded herself, but the tears kept coming anyway.

"What is?" a small, wiry voice asked. She flinched and looked around for the source of it, before she felt a wee pin prick on her palm.

"Myoga!" she cried, hastily wiping her eyes with her opposite hand. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to make sure you weren't otherwise occupied, my lady!" he exclaimed. "My master sent me."

"No, I'm not busy," she said, voice choked and thin. "Is there something wrong?"

"Not at all. I understand that he only visits on certain nights of the moon cycle, but he wondered if you were available now?"

Izayoi found it almost uncanny how he always knew when she was feeling at her worst, like he could sense it somehow. If she was going to tell him, then she should do it tonight and get it over with.

"Tell him that I'd like to see him, please, Myoga-san."

"Of course!" he said, before popping up off of her hand and jumping away. Izayoi sighed, staring at nothing for a while, desperately trying to staunch the flow of tears. She picked herself up and wandered out into her yard. She stared at the sky, and then closed her eyes for a long time, trying to breathe steadily. When she opened her eyes again, the Inu no Taisho was sitting at the top of her wall, long legs dangling off the edge as he stared down at her.

"You've been crying," he pointed out. "Are you alright?"

She couldn't lie now, and she didn't want to. She was tired of not telling him the truth, and so she breathed a shaky "No," and wrapped her arms tightly around her ribs to keep from falling apart. "Something happened today."

"I see," he said, slipping down the wall to stand before her. "What is it?"

"I'm engaged," she whispered. "I'll be married next year."

"Ah."

"He really seems to care for me," she explained, voice getting even less steady as she spoke. “He kissed me.”

She looked up to watch his face, waiting for condescension, or annoyance, or disappointment. None of those things compared to the impassiveness he was showing her, somehow worse than any possible outburst of emotion. She considered that maybe he didn't care at all – but his shoulders looked tense, and that small mistake in his posturing gave him away completely.

"I don't know how it happened," she added, voice barely audible. "I didn't stop him."

"Do you feel anything for him?"

“I want to, but I can’t,” she explained quietly. “I’ve been dishonest to him.”

“How have you been dishonest, Izayoi? Have you told him you loved him?”

"Don't ask me that," Izayoi whimpered, putting her hands up over her eyes. "I never told him anything like that, but I kissed him back, I never tried to stop him or make him believe I didn’t want to be his wife. I accepted his proposal, didn’t I?”

“You felt that it was the right thing to do,” he said, his voice distant. “You’ve told me before that you believed you would marry him even if you didn’t love him. What changed?”

"I... I want to tell you," she breathed. Her lungs didn’t seem like they were filling completely, like no matter how hard she tried, the air wouldn’t come. “I haven’t been honest with you either, I’m so afraid that you’ll hate me, even though I know I should tell you the truth-”

"I'd never hate you," he said, leaning forward as though he expected her to collapse. She felt as though she might, and wondered if he would catch her before she hit the ground. "I can't help you if I don't know what the problem is."

"You don't need to help me," she said, even as her voice trembled and shook. The truth was far simpler -he _couldn't_ help her with this; it was something only she could do, and if she didn’t she knew things would only become more complicated. Izayoi felt desperate, as she looked him over, wishing she could just run into his arms and make it all go away. That would only make it harder to say goodbye, so she held herself back.

He, however, had no reason to resist the urge. In a moment she was gathered up into him, his arms wrapping around her shoulders and then pulling her head underneath his chin. Even if she knew she should pull away, she didn’t want to. She never wanted to be apart from him again, and that was the truth of it – no matter what pain Izayoi knew she would feel when the night was over, being held like this seemed to make it feel less threatening. She closed her eyes against his chest and tried to breathe. He smelled like the forest, like moonlight and happiness.

"Please, Izayoi. I want to help you," he said, quietly. "I hate to see you so sad. I keep thinking of how I'm going to get you to smile again."

It was such a tender sentiment that she couldn't stop herself. She wrapped her shaking fingers up in the fabric over his chest, gripping onto him. She wished with all of her heart that he would tell her again, over and over, how much she meant to him – just so that she could have proof of it.

"Can you take me away?" she asked, looking up at him through tear-blurring eyes. “I just want to leave for a little while.”

“Of course,” he said, almost as though he couldn’t believe she’d even needed to ask.

And just as they did every night before, he scooped her up and flew high above the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edit as of 9/18/2016:
> 
> Not too many notes this time. The poem at the beginning is not of my own creation; I found it by googling "love haikus". Very creative, I know. If anyone has an issue with that I can probably just write my own, but I liked the ring of this one.
> 
> Also, for those of you who are interested: a wonderful tumblr user by the name of shelynite drew fanart for this fic!! and one of them is even in full watercolor... I am absolutely FLOORED! you can find them here: 
> 
> http://wreathoflaurels.tumblr.com/post/150427153752/shelynite-i-just-loved-the-scene-in
> 
> and 
> 
> http://wreathoflaurels.tumblr.com/post/150383486972/shelynite-forgot-my-sketchbook-and-pencils )


	9. Chapter 8

He was taking her someplace new.

She figured that out rather quickly, as the scenery beneath them changed – they were heading to a different edge of the forest, far away from her home and towards the west. When he finally descended, she realized that they were up on high ground. The landscape was fascinating, and a little bit foreign to her; the trees were sparse and the forest floor changed in a gradient from bright, springy greens and soft-leaved plants to moss covered rocks and ferns.

"I found this spot recently," he said, taking her hand and pulling her along behind him. She hurried to keep up with the long strides of his legs – hers were still shaking and weak, but where his hand gripped hers she felt warmth and security. Her nervousness began to melt into curiosity, and though her eyes were still misty from her earlier bout of tears, she was starting to be too distracted by this mysterious place to notice. He stopped, and waited for her reaction.

They stood on a high cliff, facing out towards a large, deep valley that was cut through with a river. She felt almost dizzy from the height, the magnitude of the scene before her; even in the dark, the water far below them sparkled and rushed with the renewed vigor of springtime, plants and flowers just beginning to cover its banks in tender greens and blues and yellows. The stars were bright and easily visible from here, with no clouds or boughs of plant life to hinder her view of the sky. Izayoi put a hand over her mouth, stunned – it was a totally different kind of beauty from the ocean, or from the forest, or from the grove of cherry trees.

“It’s better when the sun is rising,” he explained. “But I thought you might like it, anyway.”

"You saw all of this," she breathed, "and you thought of me?"

He nodded, slowly, looking her over. "There are so many places out in the world that I want to show you, if you wanted to see them.”

She laughed, as if there could be any question of her wanting to see them or not. Affection bloomed in her chest, a feeling that she would do anything to give him some piece of herself in return for all he’d given her. It seemed like such an extraordinary gift to be given the world and all of its sights, and she couldn’t imagine how to repay him.

Deep down she knew that it was not something he did because he expected anything in return – he was far above any human gift, any single thing she could offer… which meant that he only did it for her sake and no one else’s. A little sliver of hope ran through her, but even with all of the wonder around her acting as a distraction she hadn’t forgotten what she had to do. It seemed even more important that she do it now, before she ran the risk of falling any deeper, before he went to any more trouble for her.

"It's beautiful," she told him. "And I’m very greedy, remember? I want to see everything.”

"I'm glad that you like it."

“Taisho,” she said slowly, her fingers entwining nervously with each other. “I have something I have to tell you. I’ve been putting it off for too long.”

“Of course. What is it?”

She turned towards him, heart nearly in her throat – she wasn’t even sure she had the strength to carry through with this.

“You’ve given me so many beautiful things in the last few months,” she laughed nervously, wavering where she stood. Her eyes stayed trained ahead. “Every night with you has been some… great new adventure, some new place to see. You more than held up your end of the bargain.”

“Izayoi?”

“You’ve done so much for me,” she went on, fighting the feeling of regret rising in her throat. “I wish I could give you something wonderful in return, but I have nothing to offer you.”

“I thought we were past this,” he said, and though it was gentle and good-humored, he sounded uneasy. “You don’t have any debts to repay. You owe me nothing.”

“I have to apologize,” Izayoi replied, quickly, finally turning to look at him. “You’ve been one of the kindest, dearest friends I’ve ever known.”

“It sounds a lot like you’re telling me goodbye,” he said, his voice low, understanding.

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” she whispered, shaking her head as she looked up at him. He’d moved closer to her, his face etched with concern. “But I think you’ll understand why I need to.”

“I don’t-” he began, but stopped short when she reached for his hand, holding it tightly between her own, bringing it to her lips and kissing his knuckles. Izayoi wanted to simply speak, let the words come out and tell him what she felt, but everything she could think of seemed clumsy and painful. There was only one thing she could think to do, and she knew it wouldn’t leave any room for doubt when she was done.

In a moment she had leaned in, coming up on her toes, bringing her trembling hands up to his face and pulling him down to meet her. He gave her no resistance, his body bowing slightly to be closer to her.

It was little more than a touch of her lips to his, but for a breath she didn’t think about anything other than the pleasure of finally kissing him. For just that small moment she let herself want him, and let it be enough that she would have this to remember him by. Izayoi pulled away slowly, deliberately, not opening her eyes until she was safely extricated from him.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, looking down at the rocks around her feet.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked her, his voice thick. “What is there to be sorry for?”

Her eyes snapped up, meeting him. There wasn’t a trace of confusion or anger on his face, nor was there any sign of disappointment. Instead, the Inu no Taisho simply appeared serene, perhaps even satisfied. She wondered if her brain was playing tricks on her.

“I… I thought you would be disgusted with me,” she admitted, surprised. “That if I kissed you, you would never want to see me again.”

“What gave you that impression?” he asked, his face breaking into a brilliant smile. “I thought it was so obvious by now.”

"You… wait," she began, caught completely off guard. "What?"

"What are you so surprised for?"

"I don’t understand," she breathed. "What do you mean by that?"

Izayoi couldn't get enough air into her lungs, or at least it seemed that she couldn't do it fast enough. She wondered if she had missed something important – this was completely outside of anything she had been expecting, and so she had no appropriate response but to struggle for words. Her mind raced, trying to put all of the pieces together; all of the places he had shown her for no other reason than to make her smile, the tenderness in his voice when they spoke to each other late at night, the way he ran his fingers through her hair, touched her cheek, her hands…

She felt that she had to sit down or she might collapse. She looked around wildly for a moment, and when she had found a suitably dry patch of rock she sat, holding her head in her hands and drawing her knees to her chest. She wondered if it would be wrong of her to laugh.

"I'm so stupid!" she cried, smiling at absolutely nothing. He came to crouch in front of her, watching the strange, dreamy grin on her face and tears in her eyes.

"You incredibly precious woman," he said, tipping his head. "You never even noticed."

Once again, she shook her head, still smiling broadly at him. He caught her hands in his, forcing her to stay still – and then he leaned in close, molding his mouth carefully and softly over hers.

It was a much better kiss than the one she had given him, but then she supposed he was a lot more practiced. It was both tender and wild all at once, restrained but passionate, lighting her cheeks on fire and sending sparks all down the length of her spine. Her body felt alive, awake, excited – in her eagerness to kiss him harder, she pulled her hands away from his and pressed them against his cheeks to hold him still. His palms rested flat on the rock where she sat, on either side of her hips in order to stay balanced.

Izayoi felt like she could have lived and died a thousand times in that moment alone, her heart soaring at the thought that he cared for her, that he wanted her.

He pulled away after a long moment, his eyes half-lidded and soft, warm as he looked over her face.

"Oh," she breathed. "How long has it been this way?"

"...a long time," he admitted, smiling. "Izayoi."

The sound of her name on his lips made her feel almost dizzy with happiness, the timbre of his voice intimate and gentle, wrapping around the syllables like they meant more to him than any other word in the world. She bit her lip, the action drawing his eyes back down to her mouth – she quirked a half smile, giddy, and leaned in to kiss him again.

And she kissed him again, and again, and again, simply to prove that she could.

o0o

The rest of the night passed in a blur.

A good part of it was spent making admissions to one another – on Izayoi’s part it was only a matter of explaining that she had been frightened of rejection, that she’d never expected him to reciprocate her feelings. Everything else seemed to come clean; she’d held in the truth for so long, and it felt good to tell him.

“I missed you so much when you were gone,” she laughed, laying her head against his shoulder, wrapping her fingers up in his. “I kept having all these silly dreams about you coming back to me.”

“I hated being away,” he replied, resting his chin on the crown of her head. “I’d gotten so used to being with you that anything else seemed wrong.”

“Taisho?”

“Hm?”

“When did it change?”

“It happened before I even noticed it, Izayoi.”

That was answer enough for her; her heart lifted happily when she heard the sincerity in his voice, and she knew precisely what he meant. She’d fallen for him without even realizing that it was happening.

And so they talked some more, divulging all of the little secrets they had been keeping – but when they ran out of words, or ran out the energy to speak, they returned to the simpler language of touch. They kissed and it was unhurried, not desperate or lustful, but satisfying all the same. They sat on the clifftop for a long time, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Eventually, the darkness began to break, and though Izayoi was exhausted from the night-long vigil, she watched the sun rise over the valley.

It was as beautiful as he had promised it would be, the rose-pinks and lavenders and gold in the early dawn’s sky hitting the river below and mirroring it back like an endless reflection. The world sparkled with dew, beautiful and fresh. Izayoi had seen many nights by his side, but never anything like this.

At some point during the sun rise, she’d fallen asleep. He didn’t bother to wake her; she was only dimly aware of him picking her up and returning her to her bedroom, and him kissing her temple before he left her to sleep. She didn’t wake again until noon.

“Do you intend to sleep all day, missus?” Nodoka asked harshly sometime after the sun had reached midday peak, shaking Izayoi’s shoulders. “Takemaru-sama has been waiting all morning to see you before he goes, and you’re keeping him waiting.”

Izayoi only looked up at her, a bleary smile on her face. She heard Natsuki, rather than saw her:

“Oh, let her sleep, you old hag! She’s entitled to it for once!”

“I should cut your tongue out of your sharp little mouth,” Nodoka hollered, running off after the younger woman. A peal of girlish laughter burst from the hall, undignified shrieks as Natsuki dodged the head-maid’s no doubt severe lashings. Izayoi smiled, and stretched luxuriously.

She would eventually have to get up and see off her new fiancé, but for the moment she simply closed her eyes against the bright sunlight that filtered into her room.

The Inu no Taisho cared for her.

Everything seemed so different now, in light of this revelation. Her world seemed more beautiful, her reality shifting and changing – she was in love, and her love was reciprocated. She didn’t know what she should do about Takemaru; but it seemed like a small problem to her now. Eventually, she was sure, she would figure something out.

After a few long, quiet moments, Natsuki slunk back into the room with Chiyo in tow, each of them looking decidedly mischievous and in high spirits. The girls helped her to dress and tended to her hair and face, babbling to her all the while. Izayoi wasn’t even sure what she was saying in response, she was so happily distracted. When she was finally ready for the day, she came to the main hall where her parents and Takemaru were all patiently waiting for her.

“I hope my daughter has slept well,” her father said wryly, raising his eyebrow at her. “Since half the day is gone.”

“I’m sorry, chichi-ue,” she responded, unable to help a little smile at him despite herself. “I hope I didn’t keep you all for too long.”

“It’s quite alright,” Takemaru said pleasantly. “We had a little extra time to discuss future arrangements, this way.”

“Hm!”

“In any case,” he said, looking back from her to her parents before standing and bowing. “I believe I’ve intruded on your generosity for a bit too long.”

“Not at all!” Lady Nanase laughed, helping her husband stand up. “You are as good as family to us now.”

Takemaru smiled broadly, and looked over at Izayoi. She bowed her head away from him.

“I will return soon, I’m sure. Thank you for… well, everything, actually.”

They sent him on his way, and the moment he was safely out of earshot and appropriately far from their mansion, Lady Nanase immediately homed in on Izayoi.

“Well! Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Am I allowed no privacy, haha-ue?” Izayoi asked in mock aggravation. “All that happened was that he asked me to marry him. I told him yes. That’s more or less the whole story.”

“And why don’t I believe you?” her mother hummed, tapping a slender finger to her chin and peering in at her daughter. “I can always tell when you are keeping secrets. And don’t think for a moment that I haven’t noticed that silly smile on your face, young lady!”

“I’m only happy,” she replied, shrugging. It was true; not for the reason everyone suspected – but nobody needed to know that. For the rest of the day she went on with a smile on her face and a kind of lightness in her steps, knowing full-well that everyone would put it down to her recent match.

Izayoi could only think of how wonderful it had felt to be kissed. She was practically beside herself by the time evening came, hoping that he would come back to her again. He didn’t disappoint her at all.

“Hello,” was all he managed to say before she’d practically thrown herself into his arms, pressing a sweet little kiss to his jaw.

“Hello!” she laughed, and then she kissed him soundly on the lips. He didn’t miss a single beat, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her to him. Her toes barely even touched the ground.

“Izayoi,” he sighed when he’d pulled away. “Dear, sweet Izayoi.”

Her heart soared. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but it didn’t even matter; she’d never felt so much happiness before, all at once. She wasn’t sure she could contain it all, like it might spill out from inside of her and overflow. The Inu no Taisho didn’t appear to mind this; in fact, her happiness appeared to be infectious, spreading from her to him until he was beaming down at her.

Nothing in the world had ever felt so perfect.

o0o

From then onwards, time seemed to absolutely fly.

The longer she spent with him, the more they seemed to meet, somehow finding time where it hadn't been before – he visited her nearly every night, and took her wherever she wanted to go. Some evenings they went to the shores of the ocean; on others, they stayed in the forest beneath the great old trees. One night they simply laid out in a vast, open field and watched the night sky change and shift, clouds passing and comets skimming the horizon.

It didn't especially matter where they went, because she felt like she belonged in his company – she breathed so freely, so easily, and her heart was so much lighter.

Soon, it had been a year since they’d met. It was almost hard to believe how different things were between them now, how unexpected it had been. What had seemed to her at the time like a stroke of misfortune now felt like beautiful serendipity; that she had been in that forest at the same time he had, that she’d returned to it and met him again. Her perseverance had paid off in ways she’d never even imagined.

Everything else felt like little more than a buzz around her; her parents talked about the wedding, what she should be sent away with when the time came, and what it would be like to be a samurai’s wife. Izayoi barely heard them, instead thinking about how much longer she had until the sun went down.

“The princess certainly seems to enjoy her privacy lately,” Nodoka griped one evening, as Izayoi tried to shoo the ladies out of her room so that she could prepare herself. “It seems suspect. And inappropriate.”

“I’m about to become a married woman, let me enjoy my last few nights alone!”

“Not for another year,” Nodoka replied hotly, waving her hand around. “It feels like you’re hiding something, if you ask me!”

Natsuki smirked and then laughed, and then for the first time since Izayoi had met her, shy, gentle Chiyo spoke replied to Nodoka with a kind of fierce conviction:

“Women will do what they do in private. She doesn’t need an audience.”

Izayoi’s face went hot and red, her mouth gaping. Natsuki was now hysterical with laughter, pulling on Chiyo’s arm and motioning for a very irate Nodoka to follow her out of the room. The older woman shot a fiery glare at the two maids first, and then Izayoi, as if to say _I’m watching you._

Despite her embarrassment, Izayoi was happy to let them think what they liked, as long as it kept her secret safe. She would continue this way for as long as she needed to; if the only cost was a blush and a laugh at her expense, then it didn’t matter.

She knew she was living in a sort of limbo; as time passed, the divide between what she did in the daytime and what she did at night only continued to grow. Before, there was a chance that she could simply return to normal life without losing too much – though in retrospect, she realized that she was enamored almost as soon as she’d met the Inu no Taisho. Now it was clearer than ever before that she couldn’t give him up without losing a part of herself. He was so deeply worked into her life, into her experiences and emotions, that it felt like she was growing alongside him.

"I love you," she whispered one evening in the middle of summer, as they sat and looked out over the valley that he'd given to her, their fingers laced together and her head resting on his shoulder. "I can't help it."

"Can't help it? Would you change it if you could?" he laughed, though his voice not unkind.

"Be nice to me," she laughed, smiling up at him. "It took a lot of bravery to tell you that!"

"You don't need to be shy about it, Izayoi. I love you, too."

As the weather began to change once more, summer's heat waning slowly but stubbornly, he opened up even further to her. He told her stories of his childhood, of the family that he’d had centuries ago, and of the home he grew up in. He told her what it was like to strike out on his own, the battles he’d fought and friends he’d made. He told her how he met the mother of his first child, how they had raised him together – even how they had parted ways.

His life story was long and winding, and to her it sounded like the tales she’d heard in her youth – they were fantastic, his experiences vast and ageless. And all the same, he spoke in blunt, frank words as though he wasn’t impressed by his own accomplishments.

"How did you come to be called Inu no Taisho?" she finally asked. “Where did it come from?”

"It was mostly by accident," he explained. "But I earned it."

She didn't miss how his voice became longing, or perhaps nostalgic. Either way, he seemed to be reflecting on it as though it was a bittersweet victory.

"You must have had a name," she reasoned, pulling back from where she was resting her head against his chest.

His face scrunched up, but more in embarrassment than offence. He bit his lip and averted her pressing, questioning stare for a moment. That only made her more curious.

"Is it a girl's name?" she teased, although she doubted that was the reason.

"No."

"What could possibly be wrong with it?"

"It's unbelievably pretentious," he finally admitted. "Togao."

"That's all? It sounds perfectly normal to me," she laughed, shaking her head at him.

"You’re one of maybe a handful of people who knows my real name."

"Togao," she said, testing it out. It seemed to fit him just fine, and she thought it would be a good bit more personal than calling him 'taisho' every time she saw him, which made her sound like a soldier calling after her commander. "It's very regal. Do you hate it that much?"

“I don’t… _hate_ it, necessarily. I just got out of the habit of using it for myself.”

"But would you mind if I called you by name?" she asked gently. "It just seems so much more personal."

“I think it’s probably fair,” he laughed, tightening his arms around her. She felt the warmth of his skin through his clothing, radiating from him like gentle fire. “You’ve earned the right.”

Izayoi smiled up at him, pleased. It felt good to know these things about him, and even though he laughed it off, she couldn’t help feeling genuinely rewarded by it.

o0o

Her freedom was stolen, and her nightly meetings with Togao were running entirely on borrowed time.

Izayoi had given Takemaru a year, but as autumn came once again she realized that a year was not very long at all. She wanted to slow down time somehow, to make it wait for her until she was ready. She wasn’t sure what she should do; it was undoubtedly wrong of her to stay with both men at the same time, and though she had decided long ago which one she loved, she was still unsure of Togao’s intentions.

He loved her, that much she knew without question. But still, she was afraid to ask about their future, what it might mean to break off her engagement with Takemaru. Izayoi was aware of the implications of this; if she did not end her engagement but continued to see another man, then she was having an affair. The reality of it sat heavily in her stomach like a stone, making her feel anxious and wrong, but it was far too late to return to the way things had been before.

She had never meant for it to happen in the first place. It had been a miscalculation, not of her own feelings, but of Togao’s – she’d expected him to reject her, and though she was overjoyed that he hadn’t, it meant that her plan was now backfiring spectacularly.

Takemaru visited frequently, to make arrangements with Lord Nanase and to see his betrothed. Izayoi was cautious in their time together, whenever they were alone, not to encourage him unnecessarily. She didn’t love him, but he _was_ kind to her, and his feelings for her were genuine. She felt nothing but guilt whenever she was with him, unable to forget about the promises she was already breaking.

Still, despite her careful and even occasionally chilly demeanor, he seemed ecstatic. She felt as though she were an object, a prize high up on a pedestal for him to look at lovingly – it was as though in his eyes she was without flaws. Izayoi could not put her finger on why, exactly, but that made her feel unsafe and afraid. Takemaru was not naïve, but his adoration of her was blind.

“You lovely creature,” he murmured one evening as they walked through the grounds together. “I can’t imagine any man on earth is luckier than I am.”

Izayoi ducked her head, face hot. “You must be more careful,” she replied quietly, fiddling her fingers together. “Someone might hear you.”

“Should I be embarrassed? Isn’t it normal for men to take pride in their wives?”

“I’m not your wife yet,” she pointed out, turning her face back towards him. “The talk in this mansion is… it spreads very quickly. If someone thought we were too close-”

“Ah, forgive me,” he said quickly. He shook his head lightly, looking on ahead of them. “Sometimes I forget about the rules the daimyo and their families keep in regards to these things. Your virtue is in no danger, I promise.”

Her blush spread even further now – she was sure her face was practically glowing by now, and even surer that he could see it. “It’s quite alright. I don’t mean to chastise you, only to give you fair warning. I wouldn’t want your character called into question.”

Takemaru laughed under his breath, stopping their leisurely stroll for a moment to take her hands into his. He was smiling, but not in a lovestruck way – it was almost like the expression he’d worn the first time they met, cheekier, more confident.

“That’s very good of you to say,” he said, low. “But the worry is unfounded. The wedding is already set, is it not? Your father has already made up his mind, and so have I. There’s very little we could do now to change it.”

“You sound so sure,” she replied, a thread of fear in her chest and working into her voice. “I’ve told you, people change their minds all the time.”

“Maybe other people do, but I’ve already made my choice,” Takemaru told her, leaning in slightly, still smiling. “I didn’t get where I am today by being indecisive.”

She opened her mouth to say something, anything to dissuade him, but he was past the point of hearing any argument. He was going to kiss her, and though she’d kissed him before it seemed like the last thing on earth she wanted to do now.

“There you are!”

Takemaru snapped out of it, pulling away from Izayoi before his lips touched hers, and their heads both turned to the source. It was Nodoka, her hands fisted on her hips, scowling at the both of them.

“Your mother wants to discuss something with you, missus,” she said sharply. Nodoka was addressing Izayoi, but her gaze was fixed on Takemaru – while anyone else might have wilted under the force of her glower, he only looked mildly amused.

Izayoi, however, looked every bit as guilty as she felt.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” he told her, adjusting himself to appear unfazed by the interruption. He kissed her cheek and then released her hands as if to send her away. “Have a good evening.”

“Thank you, Takemaru-sama,” she chirped, bowing quickly before skittering over to Nodoka. She kept her head low as they walked away, avoiding her nursemaids prodding eyes.

For once in her life, she’d been glad for Nodoka’s insistence.

Much, much later, after she’d spoken to her mother – and the conversation had been entirely menial – Togao tapped on her door.

“We need to talk,” she said as soon as the shoji slid open. At first he smiled, like he expected her to follow up with something silly or an anecdote, but when she didn’t his face turned pensive and worried.

“Is everything all right?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, still clutching the door with one hand, looking away from him. “I think there might be a problem.”

“Oh?”

Izayoi looked at him, and felt a wave of cold air roll in – she wasn’t in the mood to go outside, and she didn’t know how long the conversation might take, so she did something she might not have otherwise.

“Come in,” she told him, sort of forcefully. He didn’t question it at all, ducking his head under the doorframe and entering. Izayoi felt herself starting to blush; she damned her face for always giving everything away. It was entirely unintentional, but the moment he stepped inside she thought of how it might have appeared to invite a man into her room at this hour, with nothing but the moon and a few braziers to light them.

“You aren’t ill, are you?” he asked, concern on his face as he reached out to press the back of his hand against her blazing cheek.

“No,” she said hurriedly, though she felt like she might be ill if she didn’t get back to the topic at hand. “No, it’s nothing like that.”

His expression and posture clearly said _what is it, then,_ and so she took a deep breath and continued.

“I don’t know what to do about Takemaru,” she admitted. “I can’t break it off with him without a good reason, and unless I want everyone to find out about… you, then I have no idea what I could possibly say to my parents. Or to him.”

“I see,” he said, seriously, his eyebrows furrowing. “Is there no way to wait?”

“Of course I could keep waiting,” she replied, trying to keep her voice low. “But for what? I can’t put my finger on it, exactly, but something about being around him makes me feel nervous.”

“What do you mean, exactly?”

“We’re supposed to be married in less than a year. He’s already kissed me twice, and I know he’d have done it a few more times if we weren’t in danger of being seen,” she explained. “He… I think he expects me to at least behave like a fiancée, if not a wife. Unless you don’t mind that sort of thing?”

Togao frowned rather deeply, his eyes flashing in brief but hot anger. “I do mind that sort of thing.”

“Then you see what the problem is, of course.”

“Yes,” he sighed, reaching up and rubbing his fingers against his temple. “I wish I could give you a solution, but I-”

“But what?”

“It’s more complicated than you think, I’m afraid,” he explained, turning a little and then sitting down, as though he expected to be here for quite a while. She followed suit, coming to kneel in front of him. “I would take you away and do this properly, if I could.”

Izayoi’s heart jumped in her chest, at the first sign of _permanence_ between them, but she swallowed it down. “Why can’t you?” she asked, timidly, a little afraid for his answer.

“My Izayoi,” he said fondly, his hand once again finding her cheek, touching it gently. “I have more enemies than most men. If any of them found out about you, your life would be in immediate danger.”

“How is that any different from Ryukotsusei’s threats?” she laughed, but it was still nervous.

“He’s part of the problem,” Togao told her, now bringing his hands down to fold around hers. “He’s much, much stronger than I believed he was. If I’m not careful with him, he could destroy the whole of Musashi. But worse than that, if he knew what you meant to me now, he’d hunt you down before you even had time to think about it.”

“It’s better if nobody knows, then,” she said, her eyes turning downcast.

“Most of my closest friends don’t even know about you,” he admitted. “But it isn’t because I don’t want them to. I just… I need to find a solution first, to keep you safe.”

“I am safe,” she argued, her gaze snapping up and meeting his. “As long as I’m with you, I’m safe.”

“If something happened to you,” he began, shaking his head like he hated even the thought of it. “If I couldn’t stop it, how would I live? It has to stay this way a little longer.”

She bit her lip, disappointed and aching deep in her chest. It wasn’t the answer she’d wanted; it meant that she would have to continue lying to her family, to her maids, to Takemaru – but his words were a promise as well, that he loved her and cared for her, and wanted to keep her for himself. Izayoi was overwhelmed by it, her love for him bright and full inside of her body. She shifted forward on her knees, and then all at once she wrapped herself around him, her hands finding his back, his hair, tangling with him. Their lips met.

Her eyelids squeezed together so tightly that she could see lights and patterns that weren’t really there. Despite the melancholy, there was something else beneath the surface of her skin, something pressing and urgent. He kissed her back, his hands spanning her waist and pulling her closer to him. When his lips parted for air, she followed him, deepening the kiss – she’d never actually done it before, and the first little touch of her tongue to his lower lip was thrilling to her. He grunted, pulling away from her.

Izayoi wondered if she’d done something wrong, her eyes darting over his face. He didn’t appear unhappy; his face looked strange to her, bewildered and longing. She noticed belatedly that his breath had quickened, his chest rising and falling faster than normal.

“We have to wait,” he said, as if to repeat his point. “Just for a while, I promise.”

She smiled warmly, as though dazed, and leaned back in to rest her head against his neck. She felt him sigh as though he was relieved, his arms still wrapped tightly around her.

“If it’s for you, I don’t mind waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edit as of 9/29/2016:
> 
> I pretty much COMPLETELY rewrote this chapter, to the point where it's not even recognizable. I think it was in need of an overhaul though, and I'm a lot happier with it now. Plus, I added even more kissing, because kissing is a wonderful thing!
> 
> A quick note about dogdad's name: I'm aware that he has no "canon name", and that this one was made up for the movie. But I like it, and I personally think it's better than using his title all the time. It's also popularly translated as "Toga/Touga" for some reason -and yes, I've written it like that before- but the actual name in Japanese 闘牙王 translates directly to Togao. So. That's that, I suppose! 
> 
> And the reason he's embarrassed about it is because it means something like "king fang", which is awfully fancy... but then again, he has one son named "killing perfection" and another named "dog spirit", so I'm not sure what his beef is.)


	10. Chapter 9

Autumn came as sure as it always did, spreading like a slow and brilliant wildfire over the landscape. The trees had started to glow in hot reds and golds, the air turning sharper, smelling lovely and of decaying leaves. And, as it became colder, she found herself asking Togao to come in rather than go out.

This was not in and of itself a problem; he moved very quietly, always graceful despite his size, and he could hear well enough that he was in no danger of being caught – anyone coming into Izayoi’s room would be heard long before they reached her, so he had plenty of time to slip away. It was far better to stay in, anyway, since Nodoka had taken to the obnoxious habit of randomly returning to Izayoi during the night, as though she suspected her of sneaking around. It was especially bad whenever Takemaru was visiting – so as long as Izayoi pretended to be asleep when her old nursemaid checked on her, nobody was ever any wiser about her late night visitor.

The real problem with him staying inside with her was simply his proximity. Though he seemed to be appropriately disinterested, she was not so fortunate; every kiss made her want to scream in frustration, always too innocent and gentle for her liking. Wanting him seemed natural to her, but it was ultimately fruitless.

Of course she would not press the issue with him, since he had been brutally clear about his feelings: they would not do anything that might complicate matters further, not yet, not when there were still so many unanswered questions about their future. She could understand his reasons perfectly, but it did very little to soothe her. There was really nobody she could talk to – her maids would probably assume she meant Takemaru, and he was a subject she wanted to avoid as much as possible. Her mother might actually encourage it, which also felt wrong to her. And of course, because the mansion itself seemed to have ears and eyes, she was terrified that somebody might find out and relay it to Takemaru himself – and she certainly did not want to encourage _him_.

Not for the first time, she wished she had a sister to confide in.

She considered writing a letter to Ayako to tell her the truth and to ask for advice, but if her letter was intercepted and read by prying eyes – as letters so often were – then she would be caught. There was nobody else who would understand like Ayako would; she was the most willing to listen, the most open, the most accepting. If anyone would be able to keep a secret, Izayoi was sure it would have to be her cousin.

Finally, out of sheer desperation, she begged her mother and father to let her visit the Matsushita’s mansion. She was met with a considerable amount of hesitation; the question was, of course, whether she should be allowed to make the journey by herself or if she should be accompanied by her mother (though certainly not her father, lest the mansion lay barren and deserted without its lord). Lady Nanase was hesitant to leave, with winter coming and so much to be done in preparation for it, so Izayoi made the case that she was old enough to go by herself.

“A trip on my own may even be overdue,” she said, picking the subject apart relentlessly over dinner. “Since I’m well into adulthood and even engaged now. When else will I get the chance to do this?”

“When you’re married,” her father said, looking at her over his cup. “But if you insist on going, I see no reason to stop you.”

“Thank you, chichi-ue!” she cried, delighted, springing up from her seat to fling her arms around him. He made a face, as though he was unamused, but she felt him shaking with suppressed laughter.

“You must write and ask for permission,” her mother finally said, when Izayoi had mostly calmed down from her fit of excitement. “I will certainly recommend you to my sister, though I doubt she’d have any good reason to refuse.”

That was all she’d needed to hear. As soon as the evening meal was over, she pulled out her papers and brushes and set to work writing the politest sounding letter she could come up with:

_Kind and generous Lord and Lady of Matsushita,_

_Have you all been well? This Izayoi would request a chance to visit, whenever it is most convenient for you._

_I pray for your safety and prosperity,_

_Nanase Izayoi_

And then, in more loose hiragana at the corner of the paper:

_How is Ayako, in particular? Dearest cousin, I long to see you!_

Finally, when it had been read over and approved by her mother – which included a little note of her consent and good wishes – it was sent off and Izayoi began the painful process of waiting for a response to come. Fortune seemed to be on her side, because in less than two weeks they received a reply, incredibly informal and written with obvious affection:

_Darling niece,_

_Of course you are welcome! If you see it fit, please come before the weather turns._

_Give your mother and father my unending love,_

_Matsushita no Tomiko_

_-and Ayako sends her love as well, she is practically bursting at the seams with joy to see you._

Relieved and thrilled all at one for the response, she immediately tried to persuade her parents that she should go before the week ended.

“After all, what if the weather turns sooner than we expect, and I’m caught in the middle of it?”

“It’s hardly even fully autumn yet, Izayoi, I’m quite sure you won’t have any problem,” her mother laughed.

“You know how quickly it can change!”

“Let her go,” her father cut in. There was a sparkle in his black eyes, the skin around them crinkly and kind. “She’s not going to give up trying to convince us, and I’m starting to miss the quiet.”

Izayoi was beside herself, bowing and spilling words of thanks and blessings upon her father, who only laughed.

That night, when Togao had arrived, she told him about the trip.

“Good timing,” he said distractedly, watching her as she fluttered around like hummingbird, all excitement and joy as she began packing. “I have something important to do.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is?” she teased, looking him over. “Or is this another one of your secrets?”

“I’ll tell you when I’ve actually done it,” he laughed. “There’s no point in telling you before it’s finished.”

She bit her lip, considering, and then she finally sat down beside him, resting her head against his arm.

“How long will it be this time?”

“I don’t know.”

“You never do,” she said gently, still smiling. “Can I expect Myoga to keep in touch while you’re away?”

“Maybe. He’s such a coward that he probably won’t be with me for long.” 

“Is it something dangerous?” she asked, frowning.

“Nothing more dangerous than usual, I promise.”

Izayoi sighed deeply, linking one hand with his. It always struck her how different they appeared; her hands were small, pale, and soft from years of never doing hard labor. His were large and dark, laced over with silvery little scars – it reminded her all over again of all of the battles he had fought and won, all of the times he’d been hurt or put in peril. His reputation as one of the strongest demons in the whole of Japan had frightened her long, long ago, but for different reasons than it frightened her now; she was afraid she might lose him, that he would go away and never return to her.

“I know you don’t need my protection,” she murmured, still looking down at their joined hands, “but if I could keep you safe I would.”

“It’s enough that you think of me when I’m away,” he responded, pulling her in and leaning so that his chin rested on her head. “I’ll be safe, Izayoi.”

Of course she knew she would still worry about him, but for the moment his promise to her was enough. She let out a great yawn – and then, only moments later, he’d said goodbye and left her to finish her preparations and get some sleep.

Two days later, she was sent on her way. Her parents had arranged an entourage of her two maids, Nodoka, a little guard of five of the mansion guards, and probably more gifts and clothing and food than she reasonably needed to bring with her. It wouldn’t be a terribly long trip; the Matsushita’s home was only about a day’s journey away, even for the size of her travelling party – still, Izayoi settled into the blankets and thick robes that she’d been given to protect herself from dust, peering out from the little curtain in her palanquin at the scenery to help pass the time. Nodoka chastised her immediately, dutiful as ever: “Be careful not to catch too much sun, or you’ll ruin your complexion.”

Which, of course, Izayoi promptly ignored.

For the most part, they managed without any major disruptions – there weren’t any threats of bandits or opposing clans, and the weather held out the entire trip. There was a fairly large town in the center of the village her aunt and uncle looked over, and the front of the mansion was situated at the far-end of it, well enough out of the way that nobody could see the gates immediately. It was sort of in-between; close enough to the common-folk that they could come and walk to the mansion as necessary, but far enough away to remain appropriately aloof and to still require the ladies to take out their palanquins whenever they wanted to make a trip. Izayoi peeked her head out, watching the townspeople bustle about and carry on their daily business. More than a few of them stopped and stared at their party as they passed by, children pointing and shouting, dressed in rough clothing and tottering around their mother’s ankles. On impulse, Izayoi smiled and waved at a little group of them, sending them and their parents into a fit of conversation.

As the Matsushita mansion finally came into view, Izayoi gasped aloud. It was bigger than she’d remembered it as a child, the grounds sprawling and beautiful. Past the gates, there was an open garden, filled with man-made streams and voluminous hydrangea bushes, though devoid of their flowers.

Izayoi was helped out of her seat.  Before her stood a grand welcoming party, all out on the yard to see her arrival. Her aunt and uncle stood in the center, on either side surrounded by their children: their three sons and their wives, and then Ayako, who out of all of them looked the most excited. There were more servants than she could count immediately. She swallowed heavily, a little intimidated by the crowd of people – her mother’s family had always been better off than her father’s, and though she’d never paid attention when she was young, it felt like a very stark comparison to her now.

“Izayoi,” her aunt said joyfully, coming to her with arms open wide. “It’s so good to see you! Your trip was safe, I imagine?”

She immediately began to giggle, a little nervous, but happy to be in the presence of someone familiar and kind. “Perfectly safe, aunt!”

It didn’t take long to feel at home. After all of the pleasantries and greetings – and once her things had been allocated to their appropriate rooms – Ayako bodily dragged her into her room, shooing her cluster of servants away from them so they could talk in private.

“So” she said, her eyebrows high, “I’ve heard you’ve gone and gotten engaged.”

“I have,” Izayoi said dispassionately.

“You really think you’re going to get away with not telling me how it happened? You’re an idiot,” Ayako laughed, her face devious. “Who is he? What’s he like?”

“He’s a samurai who works for my father. His name is Takemaru, and he’s… he’s alright.”

“That has to be the most lukewarm praise I’ve ever heard in my life. What’s wrong with him, exactly?”

“Nothing at all, actually. He’s handsome, young, my parents love him, he worships the ground I walk on-”

“-but you don’t care a scrap for him.”

Izayoi shook her head, eyes wide. “I do! It’s complicated.”

Ayako settled in, spreading her robes all around her like a nesting bird where she sat. Izayoi knelt in front of her, thinking of what she should say, how much to explain, how vague she could get away with being. She’d come all this way because she needed someone to talk to, but now that she was faced with it she found herself tongue-tied and shy. Her cousin watched her expression carefully, clearly waiting for her to elaborate.

“There’s someone else,” Izayoi finally muttered, looking down at her fingernails.

“What?” Ayako gasped, rocking back and forth on her knees a little.

“I said there’s someone else,” Izayoi repeated, louder this time, her face heating up. “I’m in love with a different man.”

“I heard you the first time, I just… you, of all people? How on earth did you get yourself into this situation?”

“I don’t really know. I was friends with him before I met Takemaru, but I knew we couldn’t ever be together, so I just… I got engaged and hoped the feelings would go away,” she babbled. “They didn’t. And he loves me too, now.”

“You’re having an affair!” Ayako whispered, clapping her hands together as though it was the best news she’d ever heard. “How exciting!”

“It’s not exciting at all, it’s awful,” Izayoi chastised. “And if anyone finds out about it, I don’t even want to think about how much trouble I’ll be in. I don’t want to hurt my fiancé any more than I know I’m already going to-”

“What’s that supposed to mean? He’s never going to know about it, so what’s the harm?”

“I’m not marrying him when I’m in love with someone else,” she hissed, frowning. It did absolutely nothing to dampen Ayako’s mood.

“I fail to see the problem here.”

Izayoi struggled to find the right explanation, the way to verbalize her feelings; it wasn’t simply a matter of protecting Takemaru’s pride or of letting him down easily, it was something more. It came to her suddenly.

“This other man,” she started, raising her eyebrows and hoping Ayako would understand her, “he deserves to be more to me than a lover I take on the side. I want him more than that.”

“Oh,” Ayako said, her smile falling slowly, comprehension dawning in her eyes. “You’re really serious about this.”

“I am.”

“Why don’t you marry him instead? Surely there’s still time for that-”

“I can’t,” Izayoi murmured, biting her lip in frustration. “There’s no way I’d be allowed.”

“Is he… is he poor, or something?”

“No.”

“A criminal, then? I’m more curious than I was before, actually.”

“His reasons aren’t… listen, it’s not even something you would understand. Please believe me,” Izayoi pleaded. “I would tell you if I thought I could.”

Ayako frowned, leaning forward to peer at Izayoi’s face, honest concern written into her eyes. “That’s awfully worrying, Izayoi. He’s not dangerous, is he?”

“Not really, no.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“He’s not!” Izayoi sighed, lifting her chin. “He’s incredibly strong, so I think he could be dangerous if he wanted to be, but he’s kind. He’d never hurt me.”

Ayako fidgeted, clearly nervous. Izayoi wondered if it had been a mistake to tell her, but then she cracked a smile – albeit a hesitant one.

“You do love him, then?”

“Very, very much.”

There was a noise at the door, and both girls jumped, the moment between them passing. It was time for the evening meal.

Izayoi realized that it wasn’t something she was likely to be discussing any further with her cousin, later that night as the pair of them laid together and talked. Ayako seemed to know instinctively that there was something strange about Izayoi’s affair, something forbidden that even she was too afraid to delve too deeply into. It was frustrating, to be sure, but perhaps it was for the best that they leave it be.

The next morning, Ayako flung the blankets off of her sleeping roommate and in a shout of girlish delight announced that they were going into town.

“What for?” Izayoi asked blearily, voice groggy from sleep.

“What for? What else,” Ayako cried, tugging on Izayoi’s wrists to try and get her to sit up. “We’re taking you shopping.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” Izayoi replied hastily, her cheeks flushing. “I have little enough money to shop with, anyway.”

“Mother and father will cover it!”

“Ayako-”

“No complaints! Get up, already.”

She was dressed and prepared, and an entire little group was set up to go out: Aunt Tomiko, Ayako, a few guards, and two maids. They all piled into their palanquins and set off, Izayoi and Ayako in one and Lady Matsushita in another.

The town was even busier than it had been the day of Izayoi’s arrival, filled with people all crowding around and haggling with each other. The air smelled strongly of food, animals, and humans – it was complete chaos for Izayoi’s senses, all of them apparently being assaulted at once. As they’d done before, there were people gathering to catch a glimpse of the nobles as they passed by, whispering and talking amongst themselves. Finally, the three women stopped and stepped out onto one of the more open streets.

It was as though there were an invisible barrier between them and the common folk. While the villagers all pressed together, shoulder to shoulder, nobody dared touch the women or even to make eye contact with them. Ayako seemed totally oblivious to this, pulling Izayoi along with her to peruse the storefronts.

“It’s mostly inns and things,” she shouted over the noise, “but some of them are really pretty entertaining.”

“Aren’t you worried about getting lost?” Izayoi asked, realizing that Ayako had managed to shake off her guardians.

“Not at all. I’ve been here a million times before, and if anything happened to me father would have the perpetrator’s head, so we’re perfectly safe!”

It seemed that only moments after she’d finished speaking, there was a great commotion. All around them people were scurrying back and forth, women hauling up children into their arms, the invisible line crossed as people ran past the two girls.

“What on earth?” Izayoi cried.

“Something must have happened,” Ayako said, determined. Brave as ever, she pulled her cousin along in the direction people were running away from – off the main thoroughfare.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” an old man yelled at them, his eyes wide and nervous. “They’re saying they spotted a yokai in the road!”

Izayoi’s stomach dropped suddenly, her mouth going dry. Ayako paused where she stood, weighing her options, but Izayoi gave her no time to think – she picked up her skirts and darted, weaving in between people towards the center of the town.

“Are you crazy?” Ayako screamed after her, stumbling to keep up. Izayoi had no reasonable answer; she only kept on following the streams of people, feeling her heart thundering in her chest. She wasn’t entirely sure what she expected to find – it could have been any random yokai, like a kitsune or something harmless.

Something told her it wasn’t.

Just as she managed to wiggle in through another swarm of bodies, she came through to a back alley that was amazingly clear. Ayako nearly ran into her, breathing heavily from exertion. Where there had been a buzz of noise before there was now eerie silence, as though the two girls had walked across a border and into another world.

Izayoi felt her cousin pulling hard on her sleeve, and turned her head. Her face had gone completely white, her mouth opening and closing, though no words came out. She was pointing towards the end of the alley.

She followed the line of her hand, and her blood ran cold. It was a _massive_ white dog, laying on its side and licking devotedly at a wound on its front leg as though it hadn’t even noticed that it had company. Izayoi struggled for breath for a moment, and then involuntarily squeaked. The dog lifted its head, pinning her with a stare that felt oddly familiar.

It was as though they’d seen each other before. The dog’s eyes were strange, the sclera blood red but the irises an icy blue. But more interestingly, it had jagged, deep blueish markings that ran along its mouth and muzzle. It tilted its head, clearly confused, and then heaved itself up to come closer.

“Izayoi,” Ayako whimpered from behind her, pulling on her sleeve. “Come on.”

She wondered why nobody else had found this alley, why they were all alone. She found that her feet were like dead weights, as though she had been affixed to the ground. Before her, the dog lowered its great head, level with her face.

“It can’t be…,” she breathed, reaching out her hand to touch its fur. It was soft and silky, pure white; the dog leaned into her hand, its eyes slipping shut. “It can’t really be you, can it?”

“Izayoi,” Ayako repeating, her voice quivering in fear. “What are you talking about?”

“He won’t hurt you, will he?” she replied, her lips beginning to pull up into a smile. “What are you doing here? How did you manage to get injured?”

The dog shook its head, and there was a strange burst of energy from its body – it raised the hair on Izayoi’s neck, her arms, her legs. It was a feeling she’d felt a hundred times before, and she knew immediately that her hunch had been correct. When the blinding wave of yoki and dust settled, the dog was gone and replaced with a form she recognized instantly.

“Togao,” she laughed, forgetting about everything else around her for a moment as she wrapped her arms around his waist. He was fully armored today, decked out completely and looking ferocious, but she was unafraid.

“Izayoi!” Ayako cried, tone raised to a fever pitch. “You’ll be killed!”

She pulled away from a moment, turning her head. Ayako’s eyes were swimming with tears, her hand clutched to her heart as she leaned against one of the buildings for support.

“No, I-” she said, stuttering slightly as reality sunk in around her. “I’m perfectly safe, and so are you. This is… he’s…”

“You’re Izayoi’s cousin, aren’t you?” Togao asked, his voice carefully light, like he was coaxing a child out of hiding. “She’s told me about you before.”

“Who the hell are you,” Ayako spat, her voice still shaking. “What do want with us?”

“I told you about him before,” Izayoi said quickly, catching and holding Ayako’s gaze, trying to make her understand. “Remember?”

“You aren’t serious,” she whispered, looking back and forth between the two of them. Togao’s arms were still draped over Izayoi’s shoulders, claiming her, keeping her body close to his. “Tell me you aren’t serious.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Ayako chose that exact moment to collapse against the wall, sliding down until she was sitting, her legs having given out completely on her. Izayoi turned completely, wiggling out from Togao’s hold and coming to kneel before her cousin instead. He only stood still, as though he was afraid to spook the girl even further.

“You never told me you were having an affair with a _demon_ ,” Ayako breathed, tears starting to spill down her cheeks. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I didn’t tell you because I knew this would happen,” Izayoi responded, sharper than she’d meant to. She tried to reel in her composure, taking a huge breath and softening her eyes. “But I promise that I’m perfectly sane. He’s not going to harm either of us, I promise. Please, just… don’t tell anyone about this?”

Ayako was silent for a long moment, but then, slowly, she started to stand. Her stare was trained on Togao, even as she spoke.

“Nobody would believe me, even if I did tell them.”

“I’m sorry,” Izayoi said, slipping her arms around her cousin. Ayako stiffened, apparently repulsed by the contact, and she shrank back again. Izayoi didn’t know what else she could possibly say, so she turned her attention back to Togao instead.

“What happened to you?” she asked, coming back to stand in front of him. He had a large gash in his right arm, the fabric of his kimono ripped and soaked with dried blood, as though the injury had happened a while ago. Izayoi frowned, looking at it and then up at his face, worried.

“I was getting something to eat. I picked the wrong farm to steal from,” he laughed, his other hand coming up to touch her cheek. “Don’t worry about me, Izayoi, I heal quickly.”

“You stole?”

“Only an old ox. It probably didn’t have too much longer to live, anyway.”

“Oh?”

“I got chased into this town. I didn’t realize this was where you were,” he went on, still absently stroking her skin. She fought the urge to shut her eyes, her lids fluttering as he touched her. “I shouldn’t stay much longer. I’m not welcome.”

“Ah,” she said quietly. “I’m sure everyone is going to come looking for us, anyway.”

“This barrier will hold until I’m gone, at least.”

“Is it like the ones you’ve made in the forest before?”

“Just like those.”

He smiled, his face brilliant. Her heart sped up in reply; even here, where the situation was so far from ideal, she was glad to see him.

“You should go,” she said softly, splaying her hands out over his chest, feeling the cold metal of his breastplate. “I need to try and explain this to Ayako.”

“Good luck,” he murmured, bending down to kiss her. It was over too quickly, and in a moment he had turned from her and leapt clear over the roof of one of the buildings and was gone. There was going to be a lot of collateral from this meeting, however small it had been.

“I’m sure mother is worried sick,” Ayako said, her voice cold and detached. “We need to find her and let her know we’re okay.”

Izayoi nodded, following her out of the alley. The silence between them was deafening, painful – she wondered if their friendship would ever be the same after this, or if Ayako would never forgive her. Her heart ached at the thought of it.

“My girls,” Aunt Tomiko cried as soon as they were in her sights once again, wrapping her daughter up in a tight embrace. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“No, mother,” Ayako replied, her voice muffled. “Everything is fine.”

“We’re going home. We’ve had more than enough excitement for one day!”

“Yes, mother.”

The trip back was quiet, but blessedly short. Izayoi wanted to say something, but didn’t know what she could possibly tell Ayako, other than that she was sorry for keeping it a secret. At dinner nobody even seemed to notice the distance between them – all the family was abuzz about the excitement at the market.

“I heard the demon was actually the Inu no Taisho,” Aunt Tomiko told her husband, managing to somehow be heard over the chatter of her sons and their wives and children. “We’ve seen him around here before, haven’t we?”

“Better him than another yokai,” Lord Matsushita replied, shaking his head solemnly. “He’s one of the few who has a reputation for getting along with humans. I’d still rather he stay far away from us, though.”

“Nobody was killed or hurt today, if that says anything about the rumors. What was that one that was going around? He’s so fond of humans that he’s taken one as a wife or something?”

Izayoi’s throat closed up suddenly, her fingers tightening around her chopsticks. She threw a nervous glance at Ayako, who had also looked up at that. She had the power to tell them everything, right then and there.

“That’s ridiculous,” Ayako said, speaking for the first time since they’d come home from the market. “Who’s ever heard of a demon with a human wife?

“It happens more often than you think!” her mother said, waving her hand around, and then she set off on a long rant about a story she’d heard from a friend of a friend. Ayako looked back over at Izayoi, her eyes soft, her mouth finally loosening, Izayoi tried to tell her, without words, how thankful she was.

When bedtime had come, she hugged her cousin as hard as she could.

“I know it’s frightening,” Izayoi whispered into her hair. “But I’m so grateful that you know about it. You’re the only person I can trust besides him.”

“I’d never tell on you like that,” Ayako muttered, bringing her own arms up and hugging her back. “I don’t understand how you’ve chosen him, of all people, but I would never betray you.”

Izayoi felt a wave of tears push at her eyes, and she tried to blink them back. “Thank you, thank you-”

“I might… ask you about it later,” Ayako said lightly, pulling away. “I’m a little curious, but right now I just want to sleep.”

“Of course,” Izayoi said, nodding, smiling timidly. It seemed they weren’t completely in the clear, but at least she wasn’t quite so afraid anymore. After they’d gotten ready for bed, Ayako cuddled up to Izayoi as though nothing had happened, her hand finding and holding her cousin’s until she fell asleep.

o0o

As always, the visit came to its end too quickly.

Ayako eventually came around to Izayoi’s decision, slowly but surely asking her questions about how the two had met, what they’d been doing the whole time, what the future might be like. It felt good to have someone to confide in, and Izayoi was so relieved by the end of it that she felt like she’d scrubbed her heart clean.

“I’ll give you one thing,” she’d said, running her fingers through her hair one night after bed, “he’s not bad to look at.”

“He isn’t at all!” Izayoi giggled, stretching her arms over her head.

“What are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you should know whether or not he wants the same things you want,” Ayako said, voice suddenly serious. “Is he as serious about you as you are about him?

“I think so,” Izayoi replied, quietly. “I think we’ve just been biding our time, trying to figure out what to do. It’s a complicated mess that I’ve gotten myself into, isn’t it?”

“Hm. If he breaks your heart, I’ll kill him myself,” Ayako huffed, snuggling under her blankets. “I don’t care if he is a demon, I’ll still do it.”

“I love you, Ayako.”

“I love you, too, Izayoi. You strange girl.”

The next morning, she left the Matsuhita mansion behind. Everyone sent her off exactly as they had welcomed her, all the household out of doors to wish her well as she was loaded back up into her palanquin. She was lost in thought the entire way home – her resolve had been strengthened by Ayako’s acceptance, her head clear, her heart decided. A few nights passed before he came to her, and with each one she felt surer and surer. When he finally tapped on her door, sometime around midnight nearly a week after she’d come home, she wasted no time in speaking.

“I want to go to the valley. I have something I should tell you.”

Togao made a face. “No hello?”

“Yes, that too. Hello,” she said, tugging his wrists so that she could reach his mouth for a kiss. It was quick, though, because she was far more interested in getting away from the relative danger of her home and somewhere they could talk freely.

He obliged. The whole trip over was spent in silence as she tried to work through her thoughts. Down on the ground, and surrounded by peaceful, quiet nighttime, she sat down and set out to explain herself.

“We’ve known each other for some time now, haven’t we?”

“Yes. Though that sounds like an ominous way to begin a conversation,” he pointed out. She laughed a little, turning to him and beckoning him to come sit with her. He did without hesitation.

“Maybe it is,” she shrugged as he sat beside her. “But I know what I want. I need to know what you want, so that there’s no confusion.”

“What do you mean, exactly?”

“I love you,” she said, looking up at him. He was so painfully beautiful, so kind and fierce, so perfect for her. “So you’ll understand if I tell you that I can’t marry the man I’m engaged to. I don’t want to keep having an affair.”

He frowned, but she kept talking.

“Please, I know you might have all sorts of reasons for not wanting to consider me more than – actually, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be right now. I understand that this whole thing was an accident, and I know that you have other obligations, and that we’re… very different creatures from very different walks of life, but I’m not going to lie to you now. I don’t love him at all. I know what love feels like and I can’t willingly give it up. I won’t marry him.”

“It would be much easier for you, if you did,” he said, quietly. There was something contemplative in his voice.

“I don’t care.”

“Do you know what you’re asking for?”

“...maybe,” she whispered. “Is it too much for you to give me?”

Apparently, that jostled his pride enough that he dropped his weird, quiet behavior and he snatched up her hands to pull her forward to him. It wasn’t exactly forceful, but she let out a little cry of surprise.

“I’ll tell you what you’re asking, Izayoi. You want to leave behind the human life that you, by all means, are supposed to be living. You would rather live with me, even if it’s on the margins of existence. I can’t promise you safety or any kind of stability right now, but I suppose you’ll only tell me that you don’t care about that, either. Am I wrong?”

“Not at all.”

“Then I suppose it’s settled. If you won’t be his wife, be mine instead.”

She was breathless, slipping her hands out of his so that she could embrace him fully. She buried her face in his neck, her fingers threaded tightly in his hair, her eyes squeezed shut. 

“I will,” she whispered into his skin. It was warm under her lips. “I want to be your wife, more than anything in the world.”

“It’s in name only,” he told her, voice soft and gentle. “Just for right now. I’ve been looking for ways to make it more permanent, but for a little bit longer it’s only between us.”

“What changed your mind? I mean, since it was a secret before, why make me your wife now?”

“Tenseiga,” he whispered against her forehead.

“What?”

“It’s a sword,” he said, kissing her cheek now. “It’s a little extra insurance that you’ll be protected. It’s still not safe for you to live with me yet, and it won’t be until Ryukotsusei is dead, but in the meantime… I’m tired of waiting, Izayoi.”

“I’m tired of waiting, too,” Izayoi laughed, pulling back to look at his face. “Husband. Husband!”

He laughed with her, squeezing her close, strong arms wrapped tight around her waist. She was so happy that she thought she might cry, but instead she pressed her lips firmly against his and tried to explain, without words, how much she loved him, how much she wanted to spend every second of her life as his and only his. Through it all he kissed her back, tender, leaning a little as he did, and then lost his balance completely.

She landed flat upon her back – still seized by laughter and pleasure – and he was over her in only seconds, arms braced at each side of her head, a smile plastered on his face. She recognized him for what he was; someone in love, not really very old in the grand scheme of things, full of the promise of life still unlived and feelings still unknown. Her eyes sought his and they met, dark brown on gold.

Izayoi’s breath came out in a rush.

He said something to her, but she hardly noticed. Instead she moved, trying to clear her lungs to allow air in, but everything felt heavy around her, above her.

“You’re crushing me a bit,” she giggled. He raised an eyebrow, and then began to push away from her – but her hands gripped his upper arms tightly, stopping him. “I didn’t say I minded, did I?”

There was something between them. It was thick and strong in her chest, warming her body, pooling in her belly and lower in the cradle of her hips. She was afraid; it was so strong, so powerful, and she was helpless to stop it from spreading. Izayoi reached up and kissed him, just brushing her lips against his for a moment, testing the waters before she gave in. She pulled his lower lip in between her teeth, biting down gently, tugging.

To her surprise, he groaned. It was a sound she’d never heard him make before; it was shocking, exciting, spreading over her like a wildfire. He pulled away from her, his eyes unfocused.

“Izayoi,” he tried, but he sounded gruff and unsteady. She didn’t need him to speak, anyway. Sure and silent, she reached up her arms and pulled him down by his shoulders, pressing her lips back to his. The world around them seemed dim to her weak, human senses, consumed only by what she knew and understood to be desire. Desire, she had always been taught, was vulgar. It was what set young, passionate people to their ruin and it could certainly bring her to her own. It was vile, primitive, and wrong.

Then so be it; she was vile, primitive, and wrong. She was also bursting at the seams with love, trust, and tenderness. Izayoi knew that she probably never would have wanted him if she hadn’t loved him first, and so she could forgive herself just this once for the hot little flicker of lust that was growing inside of her. She parted from him, bringing her mouth to his ear.

“Am I truly your wife?” she asked, her voice deeper and throatier than usual.

“Yes,” he said, low and quiet. “Yes, you are.”

A slow, languid grin started to spread over her face. She twisted her fingers in his hair, nudging her hips up into him.

“I’m not making love to you on the forest floor,” he laughed, though it was still rough. “You deserve better than that.”

“Why not?” she whispered. “I don’t care where it happens, as long as it’s with you.”

“Not tonight,” he repeated, stern, and then he pulled away entirely, sitting up with crossed legs and waiting for her to come to her senses and follow suit. But for a second, she laid on the ground, feeling the chill of late autumn seeping into her clothes and eventually into her skin as well, just so that she could convince herself that she wasn’t imagining everything.

“Will you come tomorrow night?” she asked, voice distant and dreamlike.

“Yes,” he replied. “It’s getting cold out here. You should return before you freeze.”

She sat up, and let him take her back. As always, he kissed her forehead and whispered his goodbye, before disappearing back into the night. He loved her, he wanted her, he had made her his wife, and now he had promised to take her away to live with him as soon as he felt it was safe. She repeated those reassurances over and over in her head, letting them lull her to sleep.

When morning came, Izayoi was filled with nearly boundless energy. She attacked her breakfast with vigor, worked on her sashiko with renewed dedication, talked and laughed with Chiyo and Natsuki – all while keeping her mind set fully on the night before her. The sky began to darken with sunset and the autumny chill of daytime deepened into cold. She retired to bed early that night, claiming exhaustion and headache and carefully asking not to be disturbed. Once she was alone in her room, she fussed with her hair and her face and wondered if would even make a difference to him. She responded to every gust of wind, every sound, as though she didn’t already know what a knock sounded like. She sat on her tatami mats. She waited.

And finally, after what felt like nearly years, she heard the light tap. This time, though, he didn’t wait for her to open the shoji and come out to meet him. He opened it himself, but he hovered at the doorway. Physically, he was as imposing as ever, tall and strong – but she saw the hesitation on his face, and that was what stood out to her. All she could do was pray that she looked more beautiful and alluring than nervous, that it would be enough to pull him from the edge of his doubts.

“Please, you should come in,” she said, so quietly that it would have been hard for anyone else to hear. But he heard, as he always did, and he looked at her.

He was covered in moonlight, the silvery glow of it lighting him like a halo, and she wondered if she was out of her depth. He was heavenly, a demon the likes of which the world had hardly ever seen before, and despite all of this he had fallen in love with her. She wanted him to touch her, to whisper to her. Izayoi called his name, softly, beckoning him inside.

Her plea was enough; he had taken the swords from his side and back and laid them at the doorway, still looking at her. He was maddeningly quiet, taking her in like he needed to memorize the image of her in front of him. Then the armor and pelt from his back was removed, and that too laid by the threshold. He crossed over in only a few long strides, kneeling before her.

“Tell me,” he said quietly, his hands taking hers, completely overwhelming them, “that you are absolutely sure. If you’ve changed your mind, then you still have time to say so.”

Her heart was racing, almost to the point where she could feel it pounding in her throat. She met his eyes and couldn’t find any reason not to tell the truth.

“I want _you_. My choice has been made for a long time now.”

He heaved a great sigh, as though relieved, but he continued:

“Listen to me,” he continued. “Izayoi, there can’t be anyone else after this. Not for either of us.”

She shook her head, gripping his hand tighter.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

His hesitation broke and he pulled her in, hands firm on her shoulders, to kiss her. Izayoi felt dizzy from it all, the taste of him on her lips and his hands slipping down her arms, holding her still. She felt the tension between them once more, that thread of desire, pulled tight and only getting tighter and thinner each moment he stayed with her like this.

“I love you,” she breathed when he pulled away from her, “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Izayoi,” he breathed, deep and rich, thrumming through her like a heartbeat. His arms slipped around her waist, pulling her close. He held her tight, his hands sliding against the fabric of her night clothes, shifting it so that the hem slid up her legs. She gasped, and then pushed him until his back hit the ground, her body and hair coming to cover his. She wanted to be joined with him past recognition, so close that it wouldn’t be possible to distinguish their differences, so close that she wouldn’t know where she ended and he began.

She longed to kiss him again; so she did, once, twice, three times. All at once, he decided that he’d had enough of her lips, and he moved to press hot, fast kisses over her jaw and down her pale neck. She inhaled sharply and tipped her head, baring more of her skin to him. His voice came out in a growl, so that it was nearly impossible to distinguish the words, but she replied by pressing her hips down over his.

The thread snapped, and their shared fate was sealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edit as of 10/09/2016: 
> 
> hiragana: one of the many Japanese alphabets. back in the day, it was a women's only language, and how most court women wrote to each other.  
> sashiko: a kind of traditional embroidery
> 
> So... surprise, we all knew they were going to do it eventually. Inuyasha had to be conceived somehow, right? This chapter also went from about 5k words to over 7k - I added a LOT to it, mostly with Ayako because I love writing her.)


	11. Chapter 10

Izayoi woke up beside Togao in the middle of the night, totally disoriented by her surroundings. For a moment she believed that she was still dreaming, that the last few hours of her life were simply something her love-struck mind had worked up for her. She blinked slowly, as though in a daze, remembering the feeling of his hands on her bare skin, the taste of him. As though in answer to this, he stirred beside her and she realized with a rush of giddiness that he was real, his arms solid and visceral where they draped over her shoulders and waist.  
  
Now it all came back to her; after it was over, while they lay tangled in each other and trying to catch their breath, she had asked him to stay. It was a stretch, she supposed, because it wasn’t as though she could promise they would remain here undisturbed, or that it was a wise idea for him to linger where they might be found together. But despite all of those things, Togao had told her he wouldn’t go until the dawn broke. She fell asleep next to him, blissful to the tips of her toes, lulled away by the sound of his heartbeat underneath her ear and fingertips.  
  
He didn’t need to sleep nearly as often as humans did. He’d mentioned offhandedly on some occasion that maybe once a week was more than sufficient – so she could appreciate the oddity of him choosing to sleep now. In that simple gesture lay deep, immeasurable trust; he was completely prone and vulnerable, something which very few living creatures ever got to see of him. She shifted, lying still and trying to see him in the darkness.

Dead to the world, his face looked younger and far softer than she’d ever seen it before, all of the lines and fatigue smoothed out and his mouth lax. His hair was a wild mass of silver, spilling all over her bedding and even onto her, lovely and pale as the stars. He tightened his grip around her, pulling her even closer to the heat of his body. She relaxed in his arms, happy to feel the press of his skin against hers. Her eyes slipped shut and she was gone again.  
  
When she rose the second time – this time awoken by someone saying her name – the thin light of predawn was starting to poke through the cracks of her door.  
  
“I have to go,” he whispered, voice rough from sleep.  
  
“I wish you didn’t.”  
  
Togao smiled, leaning down to kiss her. The sensation of it lingered on her lips, even after he pulled away, even when he crossed to leave and slid the door open, pausing to look back at her one more time.  
  
“Come again tonight?” she asked, sitting up and clutching the blankets to her bare chest.  
  
“Yes, of course,” he said tenderly, and then he was gone.  
  
Izayoi sighed as she flopped back down into her blankets, her heart still fluttering.  
  
She was certain she looked like a disaster – her hair was tangled, her skin covered in a fine layer of dried sweat. All over her flesh there were little signs that he’d been with her; a scratch on her hip, a love-bite forming a purple bruise on her neck, reddened lips from teeth that weren’t her own. She could still feel the ache of her back to the stickiness that lingered between her thighs.  
  
It shouldn’t have been an especially pleasant sensation, but there was no end to her joy when she thought of its meaning. She couldn’t wipe the grin off of her face; even when the maids came in to wake her and dress her for the day, she felt like she was dreaming.  
  
“What is this?” Nodoka asked, clearly suspicious as she poked at the tender spots where Togao had left his mark.  
  
“I tripped last night in the dark,” she lied, her voice even and smooth. “I came down at sort of a funny angle.”  
  
“Clumsy girl,” Nodoka muttered, but Izayoi wasn’t listening.  
  
When he came to her that night, there was no hesitation. She opened the door for him, pulling him in and smiling.  
  
“Did you miss me?” he joked, but she was already too far gone to tease him back, utterly bewitched by the curve of his lips. She had to pull him down to meet her, and Togao followed her without another word. This time, she was not nervous; there was no reason to be. He loved her with extraordinary tenderness, careful not to hurt her fragile, human body – and all the same it was almost more than Izayoi could bear. Her heart felt so full, like it was going to overflow and spill all around her, and so she opened herself up even more to him and clutched at his shoulders and whispered pleas into his ear.  
  
“Izayoi,” he murmured, “Beloved.”  
  
She twisted her fingers in his hair, wanting to somehow pull him further into her.  
  
“Dearest,” she echoed, smiling up at him.

In the morning he would be gone again, but that was the future, and so it seemed like a distant concern to her now. He kissed her, and the world around them seemed to fade into the periphery. 

For a whole fortnight he visited her and every single evening she grew a little more in love with him. In the back of her mind she knew that they needed to be more careful; her maids were starting to notice odd things out of place, like stained bedding and ruined clothing. But it was not their place to ask her about it, and nobody had any concrete proof that Izayoi had done anything wrong.

Eventually they returned to a sort of normal routine – his visits were still more frequent than they'd been before, but she rarely went two nights in a row without seeing him. The bright, hot passion of their affair turned into something sweeter and more durable, as though there was a different understanding between them. Each night, she opened the shoji for him and he kissed her forehead, greeting each other not as _lovers_ but as a husband and wife.

Something had shifted and changed in her – she had been afraid of marriage before, but it was really only the unknown that scared her. She could easily imagine every single thing her mother had described to her: bringing him tea and reassurances when battles and planning became too much, fighting with him until she went hoarse, kissing him every night, waking up next to him every morning, sending him off and greeting him on his returns.  
“Will you take me away?” she asked on a night like all the others, sometime in very late winter, as she huddled herself close to him in the darkness. “You know I can’t stay here forever.”  
  
“I will.”  
  
“When?”  
  
“As soon as I can,” he told her, something dark hidden in his voice. “Ryukotsusei has only grown more powerful.”  
  
“Oh,” she replied miserably.

“Please understand,” he told her, unusually stern. It was not a tone she'd heard in a very long time, not since they'd first met. “I have to be careful with him. He's vicious and cold-blooded, and he isn't alone.”  
  
“What do you mean?"

“He has an army, Izayoi. I thought it would only be a matter of killing _him_ , but battles take far more planning,” he said, his eyes suddenly appearing tired. “He's making a mess of the plains. Whole villages have been destroyed. Humans are no more than collateral to him.”

Izayoi sat up, gaping down at him.

“People have died?”

“Yes.”

Her heart stuttered weakly in her chest. It was so easy to forget what Togao involved himself with, what he had been doing for years before he’d met her. The man that was so kind and gentle to her was a fierce warlord, hardened by centuries of death and of fighting. He barely flinched in the face of death - he clearly wanted to avoid the loss of more human lives, but it didn’t cause him to crumple in fear. Even now he only looked up at her, eyes deep and unreadable, otherwise completely calm.

Izayoi felt truly afraid. She didn’t think that she was afraid _of_ him, but rather afraid _for_ him. More than that, she felt as though there was something else he wasn't telling her, that he was avoiding.

“Togao,” she started, slowly and quietly. “Why did you decide to make me your wife?”

“Because I love you,” he said simply, his hand reaching to lay his hand over her thigh. “And because I'm selfish.”

He was rubbing his thumb in little circles over her skin, comfortingly. She was honestly and truly distracted by his touch, looking down at where he lay. His hair was unbound, wild, his chest bare, lips parted – she was tempted to kiss him, to plunge herself back into the warmth of his arms, but she resisted. She felt that she needed to press on, and so she did.

“You mentioned Tenseiga, the night we decided to get married,” she pointed out, and his hand stilled. “What is it for? What difference does a sword make?”

He went stiff, and then sighed. “It's a sword that can bring the dead to life again. If something happened to you, if one of my enemies… I won't lose you.”

“Then why are you still hiding me?”

The tension in the air seemed thick and sharp - there was a heavy feeling in her stomach, a familiar sensation of dread.

“Izayoi-”

“Please tell me the truth,” she pleaded, “I just want to know why I have to stay here.”

He drew himself up, sitting and facing her. Even disheveled and naked he looked regal, a leader down to his flesh and blood – but Izayoi also knew him well enough to know the worried creases around his eyes, the firm set of his mouth.

“When I thought Ryukotsusei was all I had to contend with, it seemed like the matter would be over and done within a few weeks at most. But it isn't only him, and it's not just my enemies I'm worried about right now.”

“I don't understand,” she said softly.

“If I'm going to fight him and win, I need an army that trusts me.”

In a single, blinding moment of enlightenment, she realized what he was saying. She had been afraid of what might happen if her family knew she was in love with a demon, all without thinking of what it might mean for him if his allies and enemies found out he'd fallen in love with a human.

“I'm a weakness,” she breathed, her hand resting over her heart, where the flesh felt unusually cold.

“No,” Togao said hurriedly, shaking his head. “I don't see you as one.”

“They would think you've lost your mind,” she continued, smiling, but it was strained. “They wouldn't be willing to risk their lives for you, then.”

“I doubt they would,” he sighed, bringing a hand up to rub at his temple.

“You know there are already rumors that you've taken a human mistress,” Izayoi told him, looking down at her knees. “I’ve heard them myself.”

“There have always been rumors like that about me, I'm used to them.”

She bit her lip until she was afraid it might bleed, and then looked back to him. “I've caused you so much trouble,” she finally laughed, her voice thin.

He let loose a great sigh, the tension in his face and shoulders releasing as he pulled her into his arms.

“I promise, this isn't forever,” he murmured, warming her skin and laying his cheek against her crown. “Be patient for me.”

“I'll try,” she replied, clinging to him. Izayoi felt his heart suddenly pick up pace, and she pulled her head back to look up at him.

“You aren't going to like what I have to tell you,” he said suddenly.

“What?”

“I'm going away for a while,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t go if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary.”

Izayoi wanted to speak, but she found all she had the capacity to do was nod. She felt disappointment rip through her, the sense that even though he was still with her, she'd blink and he might disappear. She fought herself, trying to stay calm, brave, and composed.

But really, she was simply tired of missing him. She didn't want to ask any more questions for the evening; she was too afraid of their answers. So instead, she did the only thing she could think of.

Izayoi rested her hands on his shoulders for a moment, and gave them a firm shove. He went down, unresisting, and she settled over him. She felt cold, so terribly cold and aching, but he was warm. She guided his hands, his palms flat and fingers splayed, over the dips and curves of her waist and lower back.

“Your skin is freezing,” he whispered against her lips.

“Fix it,” she breathed back, sliding her fingers over his wrists and forearms, up to his shoulders once more. He pressed his mouth up into hers, his breath hot as it puffed around her like a sort of fog.

She wished time would stop for them, just for a moment. Every time they moved forward something seemed to come up, a harsh reminder that they were different creatures from vastly different pasts. Even though he fought against it, tried to be reasonable and level headed to ground her temperament, she could feel his frustration as she kissed him. His lips moved too fast, too hard, sloppy and desperate against her. Izayoi knew he wanted the distraction just as badly as she did.

For now, all they could really do was surrender to blessed thoughtlessness, and shut out the cold, hard world around them for just a little longer.

o0o

  
He left in early spring. As always, the details of his departure were sparse – he promised to send Myoga as often as possible with updates and for the company. Her stomach seemed in upheaval at his departure, her heart clenching painfully.  
  
“I have to speak with Totosai,” he’d said. “And then I have to find Sesshomaru.”  
  
“Sesshomaru? What for?”  
  
“He’s my son, Izayoi,” he said, though it seemed that his words were touched by something a little bitter, not at all the fondness that he’d always held before. “All the same, he isn't a child. I'm going to need his help in this fight… but I think I'm going to have to convince him.” 

“Convince him?”  
  
He looked almost pained by the question, as though he wanted nothing more than to avoid the subject entirely, but then his eyes became steely and he spoke –  
  
“He’s furious with me, of course. I think he believes I've betrayed him and and his mother.”

“By being with me, you mean?” she asked nervously. He nodded, and then he closed his eyes and exhaled. “So they both know, then.”

“They’ll keep it a secret, at least. His mother is one of my most trusted allies, and I've known her long enough to be certain that she wouldn't tell anyone,” he explained, trying to placate her. “Besides, she needs to see Ryukotsusei defeated just as badly as I do. He's spread out into her lands, too.”

“Does Sesshomaru have any… reason to feel betrayed?” she asked, wavering.

“He's young, still, and sometimes foolish. The boy doesn't understand why things came out the way they did, but his mother and I left each other in good terms, and we did it for his benefit. You've done nothing wrong,” he told her, firm and calm. “Sesshomaru says that he’s concerned for her feelings, but she couldn't care less about you. This is his burden alone, not yours or hers.”

“I'm still sorry,” she admitted, twisting her fingers together. “I hope that you can get through to him.”

“I hope so, too,” he grumbled, but it was softer and more kind. Izayoi felt a wave of sadness, but it was not her own; he was distant from his only son, but all the same she could tell that he loved him.

“Please be careful,” she said, reaching forward to take his hands. The moon’s beams streamed in from the doorway behind him, setting the glint of his hair and golden eyes alight. “I'll wait for you, dearest.” 

“Of course,” he replied a little gruffly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Take care, Izayoi.”

When he left, she had the strangest sensation that he'd taken half of her body along with him.

o0o

Only a few days after Togao left her, Takemaru returned to the Nanase mansion. The year that Izayoi had promised was nearly up, and she felt the pressure of their impending marriage beginning to build. Her parents were in a frenzy of planning, talking long and late into the evening with him.

His visits grew more and more frequent as the weather warmed, and the length of time he stayed grew longer. Lord and Lady Nanase had essentially given him permission to treat their home as his own, now, since he was so close to becoming their son-in-law anyway. It made Izayoi feel jumpier than ever before, and so she remained elusive, only catching him in hallways or open verandas – before she’d skitter away like a frightened bird.  
  
One cool, misty morning in spring, she sat down to her koto and played for herself. For a little while it was easy to lose herself in the notes; she loved the sound of the strings, echoing and sweet. But it had been a long time since she’d played, and so her fingers strung wrong and produced a sour note. She grimaced, and heard the light sound of laughter from behind her.

She whirled, twisting where she sat to see Takemaru leaning against a doorframe. Hastily, she bowed her head in greeting, but didn’t lift it again.  
  
“Are you nervous, Izayoi-sama?”  
  
“I didn’t realize you were there,” she said, trying to mask her embarrassment. “Please forgive me.”  
  
“It’s alright. Forgive my intrusion,” he replied, kneeling next to her. She pulled the pics off of her fingers, feeling suddenly clumsy and unsure. Takemaru took her hands, stilling them, before doing it himself. “Has something been on your mind?”

“No,” she replied, but it was far too quick to be convincing. 

His hand came up to her chin, holding it still so that he could see her face. She felt as though she looked every bit the liar she was, her eyes wide and round and her skin going pale. Nothing about his gaze was particularly threatening, but she was unnerved by the depth of his eyes, how they seemed to scrutinize her.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asked gently, his voice low and quiet.

“I haven’t meant to,” she lied again, blinking slowly, wishing she could avert her eyes. “I’m only nervous.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Takemaru sighed, pulling back from her. Izayoi felt herself release the breath she’d been holding, tension leaving her body in a rush. “The plans have more or less been made already. There isn’t anything left to do but wait.”

“There’s still a month left, isn’t there?” she asked, gnawing at her lip as she spoke. “And you are still sure that you want to marry me?”

“Yes!” he laughed, putting his hands on his knees. “By all the gods, is that it? Were you afraid I wouldn’t still want to?”

She nodded. Another tiny lie, but it was becoming easier to lie to him.

He flashed his usual charming, handsome smile, and leaned in to kiss her. She shut her eyes, waiting for it to pass.  
  
In another life, Izayoi realized, she might have loved Takemaru – he had a particular sense of humor that had made her laugh in earnest, a certain tenderness in the way with which he spoke to her. But this was not another life, and beneath the surface pleasantries she found him lacking. He refused to see her as fallible, as flawed and prone to mistakes: every move she made was interpreted as more evidence of her soft, feminine nature. She knew herself better than that; she was capable of deceitfulness, and of cruelty, and of pettiness. But she was also capable of being strong and assertive in ways that women were not always expected to be. It was so difficult not to compare the two men in her life, but she couldn’t help it. Togao had seen her ugliest sides, her most selfish and weak moments, and still he had chosen to love her. Takemaru had never seen any of those things, and she felt compelled to hide them from him.

It was as though the strain of hiding had started to affect her physically. As spring started to arrive fully, she became tired and sluggish. Her mother deemed it a case of fever, but Izayoi thought it had to be something far worse; this time of year, she was usually antsy and anxious to go outside, to feel the warming, clean air on her face. Now all she wanted was to sleep and be left alone.  

She wondered if the gods were punishing her for not breaking things off cleanly and making an honest start of her life with Togao. The thought made her laugh out loud, but it was bitter and frightened; she wished that he was with her instead of far away and in danger. Her heart felt like it was going to break all over again, and without warning she found herself on the verge of tears.

“Daughter,” her mother said as they all sat down for the evening meal. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Izayoi replied, but her voice sounded hollow and dull even to her own ears. Her dishes were passed to her, simple roasted fish and rice with yellow pickles. She’d eaten it many times before - she’d always liked it, the sweet and salty flavor of rich, oily fish, the sticky rice, and the crunchy tang of pickled vegetables.

But tonight, something about the scent struck her as distinctly unpleasant. She couldn’t tell what it was, but when she brought a mouthful to her lips it seemed to hit her foggy brain and wake her up. She dropped her chopsticks with a clatter, holding her hands over her mouth.

“Izayoi?” her father cried, alarmed.

Her stomach rebelled violently against the smell, and all at once she was terrified that she would throw up. She shut her eyes, ignoring her parents’ concerned questions and the sounds of them getting up to question her, simply waiting for the feeling to pass. When it didn’t, she was ushered off to bed in a hurry.

That entire night she lay restlessly under her blankets, clutching her stomach and trying to will away the nausea by force alone.

In only a week it had worsened to the point where she was barely interested in food and her head seemed to be aching constantly. Everyone seemed to be unsure what to do with her; none of her mother’s common remedies had helped, the maids were afraid to upset the already irritable and sickly princess, and the pain came and go in waves. One morning she might wake up feeling perfectly healthy, and then the next the aching and nausea had returned in full force.

“I’m dying, Nodoka,” she joked lightly as the old woman wiped her sweaty brow with a wet cloth. The light from the brazier threw the room into an odd, orange glow – Izayoi felt almost like she was hallucinating. “I’m being punished for being so difficult.”

“You aren’t dying, missus,” Nodoka replied, her voice tense. “But I should have kept a closer eye on you.”

“What do you mean?”

The nursemaid sighed, long and heavy, her hand stilling on Izayoi’s forehead. She looked as though she was disappointed, but it wasn’t her usual fierce, fiery anger – it was almost as though she was sad or distraught. Izayoi had never seen her quite like that before, and her stomach churned.

“Have you been paying much attention to your cycles, missus?”

“No,” Izayoi said slowly. “Why…”

“You’ve missed the last one. It never came,” Nodoka said quietly, nearing a whisper. “I’ve been looking for signs that it might have arrived, but there was no blood. Do you know what that means?”

Her stomach lurched again, her heart racing furiously in her chest.

“And now you’ve fallen ill. Your parents aren’t any the wiser to it, and I’m not about to tell them, but that’s only because you’re going to be married in a month. Can you imagine the trouble you would be in if you weren’t, missus?”

“Nodoka,” she breathed, her voice tight. “Are you angry with me?”

“I’m only angry that you have no sense,” she said, frowning. “Young women are prone to their fits of passion. I thought Takemaru-sama might’ve behaved a little better than you, but I can see now that I was being foolish. Men are men, whether they’re farm boys or samurais or emperors.”

For a moment she laid very still, even as Nodoka finished wiping off her face. She realized at some point that she must have been crying, hot tears leaking out of her eyes. Her gut roiled again, and this time she couldn’t help herself – she sat up, leaned over the big earthen pot beside her futon, and threw up.

“I’m pregnant,” she gasped, clutching the pot as Nodoka held her heavy, sweaty hair away from her face. “Will I be in trouble?”

“This is trouble enough for the moment, missus.”

Izayoi groaned weakly, and then immediately threw up again.

The rest of the evening passed in utter misery, between crying and retching, but for once Nodoka seemed more set on soothing her than watching her suffer. Izayoi lay flat on her stomach, the only thing that helped her feel any better at all, while the old nursemaid rubbed at her tired and aching shoulders.

“It's been years since I've dealt with this,” she murmured, and Izayoi turned her head slightly. “The last time was when your mother was pregnant with you. Imagine that.”

“What was it like?” Izayoi asked softly, words muffled by the bedsheets.

“Horrible. You were a rebellious and spiteful child even then,” Nodoka said. “She almost lost you.”

Izayoi felt a fresh wave of tears over her, but she tried to choke them down. “I wonder if it would have been better if she had, sometimes.”

“Don't you dare talk like that!” Nodoka said sharply, her hand gripping the fabric of Izayoi’s yukata. “Your mother loves you more than anyone in the world. It would break her heart if she heard such nonsense.”

“I'm sorry, Nodoka,” she sniffled. “I just feel like I can't get anything right.”

She heard a great sigh from above her, and then the old woman patted her head softly, dragging her fingers through her hair and untangling it. It was an odd thing for her to do, but comforting all the same.

“The lord and lady will love you just the same. I'm sure that Takemaru will be just as welcome here as he always was,” she explained. “The world’s not going to end just because you've gone and gotten yourself pregnant.”

“Thank you,” Izayoi whispered. It was a strange sentiment, but from Nodoka’s mouth, words of comfort and reassurance were rare and special.

“I'm going to leave you for a while,” she finally said, sighing as she stood up. “Just breathe through your nose, sleep on your side, and try to get some sleep.”

“Yes, Nodoka.”

And then she was alone.  
  
For a long while, she just lay still, completely thoughtless. It was hard to wrap her brain around - even then, she felt like it couldn't possibly be real. Izayoi wanted to sink into self-pity, but something in the back of her brain told her not to give in to the urge. She was frightened, but Nodoka was right: the sun would still rise in the morning, the world would go on, and she would live and survive through her fear. 

It was only that she missed Togao so, so very much. She wondered if he'd be angry with her, since this was yet another complication in their already delicate situation. There were so many things that were left unknown, and the distance between them seemed greater than ever before.

Then, of course, she wondered what it might mean to give birth to a hanyo. She had only heard of them in stories before, children who were forced upon young human women as divine punishment or used as a way to warn against going out too late at night. They were supposed to be terrible little creatures, half formed and dangerous, unloved and unwanted by their human and demon families. They weren't even supposed to exist in the first place.

Immediately, that idea sat wrong with Izayoi. She couldn't imagine any child of Togao’s being monstrous or ugly – it seemed absurd to her, that such a beautiful creature could produce anything half-formed.

She turned onto her side, curling up in a tight ball. Her hand rested over her abdomen, still soft and small, where the child was hidden away. It was hard to know exactly what she felt about it.

Under the fear, something else seemed to be growing. It was, after all, her beloved’s child. She almost felt a sense of affection blooming up in her chest, pushing past the dread and sadness. It felt strangely like she was making peace with it, the tiny life inside of her. She tapped her fingers against her belly, contemplative.

There was nothing she could do right now but wait. He would return to her as he always had, and she would tell him then. Even if he was unhappy, it seemed impossible to imagine him leaving her to suffer alone, after everything he'd already done to protect her.

There was a fragile calm building in Izayoi’s mind, just enough to allow her to finally fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edit as of 11/26/2016:
> 
> There's a bun in that oven. Can't say you didn't see it coming, Izayoi!)


	12. Chapter 11

Izayoi spent the long part of a week trying to get used to the idea that she was pregnant. It felt like it wasn’t real; there was no real difference to her between being pregnant and being very, very sick. In the in-between moments, when her stomach and aching head were calm, it felt like nothing at all. It was easy to forget about it.

And yet it was solid, rooted to her. The tiny, unseen child would only keep growing from this point forward, until it finally became visible and she would be able to feel it.

She couldn’t decide whether to feel joy or sadness. Every attempt to reason with herself failed immediately – she felt heartbroken and lonely. She thought that if only Togao was with her, he could soothe her fears away, but then she would remember that it wasn’t as simple as an illness or an inconvenience. It was his doing, as much as it was hers, and she had no way of knowing whether or not he would be angry, guilty, happy, or some combination of them. It wasn’t going to be as easy as letting him kiss her better, or laying in his arms until it passed. It was permanent.

Still, it was his child. Her brain supplied her readily with images of rosy cheeked babies with golden eyes and masses of fluffy, white hair, giggling and cooing. She thought of him sweeping a fussy toddler up into his arms, soothing it with the rumble of his voice. Her chest ached in longing, imagining him as the father of her own children - perhaps not only this one, but many others…

It was so easy to picture them having a family together. The intensity of her desire to live with him had only increased to the point of being painful. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the necessity of him leaving – he’d made that perfectly clear – but knowing the reasons did nothing to comfort her. Every day seemed to make her affliction worse.

Of course, on top of that, she was still physically quite miserable. Nodoka had kept her word; when Lady Nanase asked what the trouble was, Nodoka only replied that it must be a passing flu or cold that was too stubborn to ease up. Her mother and father seemed to have bought it, only offering whatever comfort they could and not questioning it too much further. Eventually, Izayoi thought that it would have to get better – but it got worse. She barely ate, barely kept anything down. There were a few days that treated her kindly, like a wonderful deep breath of fresh air; she would eat as much food as she could possibly get ahold of, drink water and tea until she was full to bursting, and sleep for as long as she could without interruption. The little breaks in the sickness made her feel much more reasonable, and whenever she felt better she tried to plan what she would say exactly to Togao.

She didn’t want to sound accusatory, for one thing. He must have known as well as she did that their actions would have consequences, but he’d been so reserved and cautious in the beginning that it seemed silly to reprimand him. Even he was capable of forgetting things; and besides, she'd goaded him on anyway.

In the same way, she was afraid to sound too apologetic. It wasn’t her fault alone and she knew it. Izayoi was not an unruly child who’d been caught misbehaving, no matter what Nodoka seemed to think; she was a woman, who had married a man she loved and had lain with him as his wife. This was just the natural result of that.

She felt a little better after that, but still nervous. Another week passed by in full.

And then, one morning around sunrise, Myoga visited.

“Have you been well?” he asked cordially, as always. Izayoi nodded but found herself unable to speak. “Master sends well wishes and words of love to you, Izayoi-sama!”

“So he’s safe, then?” she tried, voice quiet from sleep.

“Yes, quite safe. Are you alright?”

She blinked at the little flea, who was tapping his top pair of hands together in a nervous kind of gesture. She couldn’t quite help a little smile over his concern.

“I’m… I’m okay, but I need to know whether or not he’s going to return soon. I have something important that I have to discuss with him.”

“If you tell me, I can pass along the message,” he said kindly. Her face grew hot involuntarily.

“No, Myoga,” she explained, “This is the sort of news that I’m going to have to tell him myself.”

The vassal’s already buggy eyes widened further, huge, recognizing the implication of her tone and the uncomfortable half-smile on her blushing, sheepish face.

“Is it what I think it is?

“It depends,” she laughed awkwardly, the sound tense and strained. “He’s going to be a father. I mean again… since he already is one-”

“Heavens!” Myoga cried, practically buzzing with delight. Suddenly he had bounded up from her upturned palm to perch on her shoulder, jumping in place and warbling words of congratulation.

“How wonderful!” he laughed, and she smiled in earnest at his happiness. “The master will be so pleased!”

“I hope so,” Izayoi sighed. It was a good sign to her that one of Togao’s oldest, closest friends had reacted so overwhelmingly positively. She hoped that it meant he might also react that way; still, she couldn’t seem to get rid of the anxious knot in her stomach. “Please don’t tell him, though.”

“Of course not, hime-sama. I’m certainly old enough to know how these things work! You must tell him yourself,” he affirmed, still rocking on his feet happily.

“I suppose you’ll want a meal before you leave,” she said suddenly. Her mood felt improved by his little visit, and she felt especially charitable.

“Oh!” he replied, his eyes shining with adoration. Myoga flung his arms out and pressed against her neck, as though he was giving her a hug. She laughed under her breath, and then startled as she felt the telltale prick of a tiny, needle-like mouth. He pulled away after only a moment.

“I think it tastes different,” he murmured, stroking his chin contemplatively. “The child is suiting you very well.”

“Thank you?”

“It’s a good thing,” he said hurriedly, and then he bowed quickly to her. “I will tell the master that you want to see him.”

“Thank you, Myoga,” she said again, but this time fondly, and she sent him on his way.

She did not have very long between Myoga’s visit and his arrival to think of the right thing to say. Not a whole day passed before he arrived.

He’d come in the middle of the afternoon. Izayoi had been busy working on some calligraphy, copying down a few of her favorite bits of haiku in a sad attempt to calm her nerves, tracing the words over and over again until they looked like nonsense.

“Izayoi?”

She looked up to see Togao kneeling beside her; he had snuck in without making a single sound, like a ghost. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, but it didn’t stop her from dropping her inky brush, staining her robes and the tips of her fingers black. How he’d managed to creep in so quietly and without being seen was a mystery to her, but not entirely a surprise.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he whispered.

Izayoi didn’t even have the words to respond; instead, she threw herself bodily into his arms, holding in a sob as she did. All the loneliness and misery of their separation melted away instantly, replaced by joy and warmth. He laughed low in her ear, arms wrapping securely around her waist as she pressed fast, fervent little kisses to his jaw and cheeks and finally his lips.

“My dearest,” she breathed. “I’ve missed you.”

“I can tell,” he teased, but even then it was utterly adoring. “Izayoi.”

She loved how he said her name, the way his voice molded it into something beautiful, something worth treasuring. Her thoughts wandered; perhaps her news could wait just a little bit longer, just until she’d welcomed him back properly…

“Ah,” he said quickly, and then he pulled her up to her feet and away from the discarded brush and inkstone, sweeping her into a corner of one hallway where they were out of sight. She heard a loud sigh, and then Nodoka’s raspy, low voice complaining under her breath about the mess. They each held their breath, listening for her – Togao must have heard her leave before she did, because he looked down at her and began to speak.

“I wanted to see you,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted to come back since the moment I left.”

She was pinned between him and the wall; she felt very small in his arms, but also safe and adored. He was looking at her the way he always did when he was thinking of kissing her, leaning in closer-

Izayoi grinned, and stood on her toes to reach him. One of his hands gathered her hair at the nape of her neck, forcing her head to tilt back for him – but of course, she didn’t mind in the slightest. She was like a moth to a flame, drawn in by the irresistible heat of him, and she pressed her lips to his as firmly as she could.

“Beloved,” he murmured after only a moment, the arm around her waist tightening so that he was nearly holding her off of the ground. He closed his eyes, like he was trying to clear them – she knew in an instant what he wanted, and she smiled.

“Yes,” she replied, clutching at the fur on his back. “Yes.”

He slipped a hand down, catching her at her knees and pulling so that he could carry her away - and she let him, laying her head against his chest as he spirited her off into the safety and shelter of the newly rewarmed forest.

o0o

The distraction worked for a little while. While they lay under the canopy of an old tree, dappled by sunlight and wrapped in each other’s arms, she’d actually managed to forget why he’d returned in the first place. All that mattered was that he was with her again.

But after the delirium and passion of sex wore off, and as she tied the knot on her hakama, she looked down at her belly and suddenly remembered.

“Is everything alright?” he asked gently, noticing how she’d stopped dressing halfway through. She held one kimono loosely in her hand, staring at it like it might make her sick. She wasn’t sure if the nausea that swept over her was anxiety or morning sickness.

Izayoi turned to him, dropping the fabric on the ground. Togao was in front of her in only a moment, two long steps bringing him close enough to reach out and hold her hands.

“Izayoi,” he said, just to get her attention. She didn’t look up at him. “You’re not unwell, are you? Or hurt?”

“No, no,” she said, voice weak. “I’m fine, I just… see, we...”

She was quickly losing her will, but she looked at the concern on his face and knew he could never be furious with her. All at once she felt a rush of courage and the words poured out of her mouth.

“I’m going to have a child.”

Izayoi watched his eyes widen, from confusion to surprise, then his brows furrowed like he was considering something. She really did feel as though she might be ill, weightless as she waited for a response, any sign that he understood or that he felt something-

“I thought that might be it.”

She immediately started crying. It felt like it had blindsided her, the urge to weep, but once the tears began they wouldn’t stop. Izayoi wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his chest so that he couldn’t see.

“I’m so sorry,” she wept. “I don’t know when it happened, only that it was before you left.”

“You can’t be much more than a few months along,” he told her. “I would have been able to tell if it had been before then.”

“I don’t understand,” she gasped, pulling away from his tearstained kimono. He still hadn’t shown any outward sign that he was pleased or displeased, one way or another. “How could you possibly know?”

“The way you smell,” he explained, voice softening. “It’s different.”

Izayoi pulled a face. He looked nostalgic and distant again, which only made her worry more.

“If you knew, why didn’t you say so? I’ve been despairing over how I was going to tell you and here I find out that you’ve known since the moment you returned?”

“I didn’t know if you knew yet,” he replied, trying to pacify her before she went into another crying fit. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to tell me yourself.”

“Are you angry, dearest?”

“No.”

“Togao, please don’t tell me that you’re upset with me, I couldn’t bear it-”

“No,” he repeated. “No, Izayoi. Why would I be angry?”

“What?”

“I’m such an idiot,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. “We never discussed this before, did we? But I wouldn’t have ever… I’d never have lain with you if I didn’t want more children. I forgot how single-minded humans are-”

“Hey!”

“I only meant that I shouldn’t have been so careless,” he sighed. “I didn’t expect it to happen so quickly.”

She stopped breathing, her heart up in her throat. “But you did want more children?”

“Gods, yes, of course I do,” he responded, quietly, but impassioned. “Only on the condition that it’s something you want as well.”

Even at her most vulnerable and frightened, she’d never thought of the child as unwanted – badly timed, perhaps, but still adored. All of her doubts seemed to fall away at his acceptance, every single worry and fear replaced with warmth and optimism; their child would be beautiful, precious. It seemed suddenly absurd to imagine either of them not wanting this physical sign of their love, of the union between them.

“I was so afraid,” she managed, though she felt tears collecting in her eyes again – this time they were of happiness, her face breaking into a smile as his meaning sank fully into her. “I already love this child more than you can even begin to know-”

“Izayoi!” he cried, his hands spanning her waist and picking her up in a whirl. She laughed, her fingers wrapped tightly in his hair, cheek pressed against his. She felt wetness there that she hadn’t before, tears that had left tracks down his face.

“I’d never forgive myself if you were carrying a child you didn’t want,” he whispered, holding her, his lips brushing her ear. “If I had done that to you...”

“You don’t have any reason to punish yourself,” she replied, voice light with bliss. “I love you, dearest.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but then he closed it again, choosing instead to smile and spin her around again. His laughter was infectious, loud, and seemed to reach her to her very bones.

Izayoi cried out with delight, holding onto him for all she was worth.

o0o

For a little while longer, she was perfectly safe. The illness relented as spring arrived in full, and she was left feeling relieved – there was only a tiny swell in her belly, barely visible and easy to miss if one wasn’t paying attention to it. The voluminous folds of her hakama and her many robes did an excellent job of hiding it from everyone.

Everyone except for Nodoka. In the evenings, as she and the maids undressed Izayoi, she would make meaningful eye contact with her. It was as though she was being reprimanded without words. Izayoi tried not to mind her too much.

“You will have to tell the truth at some point, missus,” she said quietly, after shooing the girls off. “That child will only keep on growing, as long as it sticks there.”

“I know,” Izayoi sighed, looking away from the old woman’s steely and penetrating gaze. “But not yet. Goodnight, Nodoka.”

It was a clear dismissal, and the nursemaid made an indignant noise – but her lady had sent her away, and so she bit down her annoyance and bowed, sweeping out of the room without another word.

Izayoi had trouble sleeping that night.

Her mother and father would certainly be furious with her, no matter what Nodoka said – and it was simply because she’d chosen a demon as the father of her child. She tried to soothe herself with thoughts of their future, of him taking her far away and keeping her as his wife, their home filled with the sounds of tiny feet and laughter. But she knew what it meant.

She might never see her family again.

In all of her hurry to run away with Togao she’d only considered it in passing; she had thought it wouldn’t be so different from marrying a human man, and particularly Takemaru, who belonged to a different class entirely. Many women left their homes and started fresh elsewhere - but then again, there was always an understanding that if something went wrong, home would still be there. Your mother and father would still write to you, would still welcome you to visit, would love your children and your husband as their own kin.

Even the warmest, kindest hearts were wary of demons. Izayoi had always known, deep down, what her selfishness was going to cost – but she had still chosen this path. It made her feel heartsick; it seemed like there was always some obstacle to her happiness, always something which prevented her from being at peace.

After a fitful night’s sleep, she woke up feeling like the daylight hours might give her a chance to compose herself. She was barely done being dressed when her mother arrived at her doorway.

“The Lord Nasase requests your presence,” she said, stiffly. “He’s heard some disturbing news that he… he wishes to discuss with you.”

Izayoi’s spine stiffened, turning her head to her mother and freezing like a prey animal at the wrong end of a hunter’s bow. She looked over Nodoka, Chiyo, and Natsuki – the two girls averted her gaze, looking down guiltily. Nodoka met her dead-on, lifting her head high and unashamed.

On impulse, her hand flew to her abdomen, her mouth falling open. Her mother’s face had disappointment written all over it, but there wasn’t any shock. Izayoi realized that Nodoka must have been the one who told her, and she in turn must have told her father.

“Haha-ue?” Izayoi said softly, voice gentled by her horror.

“Come, we must explain this to your father,” she replied, holding out her hand. Izayoi took it in a rush, comforted and worried all at once by how tightly her mother squeezed it.

They walked slowly, and Izayoi clutched her mother’s hand like she was afraid she'd disappear. They stopped together outside of his study, and Lady Nanase took a deep breath, looking her daughter over.

“Tell him the truth,” she instructed, voice no higher than a hum. “Ask for forgiveness, but don’t beg. He will see your side of things if you keep your head.”

Izayoi nodded, following Lady Nanase into the room and taking her place before her parents. A strange calm seemed to wash over her as she bowed her head in respect – she simply had to remind herself of who she was, of what she had become. Her mother had alluded to it; she wasn’t an errant little girl waiting to receive punishment. She was a woman, a lady in her parents’ home, and she would hold herself as such.

“Daughter,” Lord Nanase greeted, his voice odd and formal. “Imagine my surprise and concern when I heard that you’ve become the favorite subject of our servants’ rumors. I wondered if you could clarify these things for me?”

“What have they been saying, chichi-ue?” she asked, holding her head high, back straight.

“Silly things, mostly. You know how the rabble love to talk, of course,” he laughed, but it was entirely humorless. “I can dismiss accusations of my daughter having an affair, or of her consorting with monsters and criminals, but there is one thing that seems to come up a little too often to be a coincidence – that you became ill in the past month because you are expecting a child.”

He waited a moment, not speaking, only looking her over. She swallowed heavily, her heart racing, her palms sweating – she hadn’t realized how much the servants had discovered about her. Izayoi thought they’d been careful enough to avoid being caught, but her room lying empty some nights, her secrecy, the messes left behind when Togao laid with her… they were as good as proof to most people. She felt like she’d been incredibly careless.

“What do you think?” her father finally asked.

“I think the servants talk too much and work too little,” she replied, earning a small smile from Lord Nanase, but one look at her mother’s face told her that she’d better confess sooner rather than later. “But sometimes, there’s truth hidden in among the rumors.”

He waited for her to elaborate, his smile gone.

“I’m pregnant,” she said, unwavering. She didn't know where this newfound bravery was coming from, why her voice was strong and full of conviction when only moments ago she felt like she might cry or beg or get up to flee. She felt none of the shame that her situation should have brought upon her.

Her father closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again he seemed exhausted, far older than he really was.

“I am disappointed in Takemaru,” he sighed. “I know how headstrong and willful you are, but I had hoped… he is only a samurai after all. They have different rules than we do, I suppose.”

“Chichi-ue,” she started, suddenly frantic to correct his assumption, but he held up a hand to silence her.

“There's time to salvage this. We’ll have the two of you married as soon as possible and nobody will be any the wiser to this little mishap. My blessing is still with you both.”

She bit her lip, frowning. His reaction had been one of annoyance rather than anger, but Izayoi didn't feel any safer for it. He believed – as did everyone – that Takemaru was the father. Izayoi hadn't been in a hurry to correct Nodoka, but if her father told Takemaru what he believed was the truth… then the truth was going to come out eventually. Her betrothed hadn't done more than kiss her. He would certainly know that the child didn’t belong to him.

“Chichi-ue,” she tried again, leaning forward slightly. “Don't be angry with him-”

“I'm not angry, only let down-”

“No, chichi-ue, you don't understand. This wasn't his doing.”

There was a silence so stark that Izayoi could hear her own heartbeat and the rustling of her mother’s silken sleeve coming to cover her mouth in shock. Lord Nanase’s eyes widened, his hands clenching tight on his knees.

“By the gods, who else could it possibly be?”

“I can’t tell you that, chichi-ue.”

“You don’t even know,” he breathed. Izayoi looked away from him at last, averting the force of his eyes - she did know, of course. She’d been reprimanded many, many times before, but she could tell that this was not like anything she’d faced before. “You have been ruined.”

The coldness of his voice felt as harsh as a slap across the face, every bit as painful as a lashing would be. There was nothing to say to placate him, nothing she could think to do but wait for it to pass over her.

“Why has this happened?” Her father looked angry, but also desperate, sick with anxiety. “Why have we been cursed with such a reckless, irresponsible daughter? After all we’ve done to protect you, it still wasn’t enough!”

“Dear,” her mother said, softly. Her hand reached over to lay over one of his, gentle on his white-knuckled fists. “If it was against her will, then I’m sure that she has already suffered enormously.”

Izayoi’s throat tightened.

“...it will depend on what Takemaru thinks, if this is truly the case,” her father finally said, after a long, tense silence. His shoulders had slumped, his head hanging forward as though he physically hadn’t the strength to stay fully upright. “If he still wants you, after everything, then he’s quite welcome.”

What this meant, of course, was that if Takemaru didn’t want her she would be expected to die. Whether it was a physical death – she’d heard of women slitting their own throats after being assaulted, or being killed by their husbands for being defiled – or the death of her character, it made very little difference. Her future rested on his whims, his choices, and for the first time since she’d first met him, she was truly afraid of what he might do.

Her desire to escape seemed stronger than ever before. None of this would matter, ultimately, if only Ryukotsusei could be defeated before the child came; then nobody would have to know that the father was a demon, and nobody would have to know that she’d knowingly and openly consented to having an affair.

After she was dismissed, and for the rest of the day, she thought obsessively about her mother. She’d controlled the damage, talking sense into her daughter and husband even as the world fractured and fell apart around her.

Izayoi was going to miss her the most, but it was a price she was increasingly willing to pay.

For the next few days she was relegated to the women’s quarters, as though she were dirty. She’d spent time here before during menstruation, when she wasn’t allowed to see or speak to any man she wasn’t directly related to. Now, though, there was nobody else to talk to – her mother and certainly her father didn’t pay any visits. Chiyo and Natsuki seemed avoidant, their chatter halting whenever they caught her eye, as though they were afraid to be around her.

As always, Nodoka seemed to be the only person willing to get her hands dirty, and so she did. She brought Izayoi all of her meals, dressed her alone, gave her all of the news about Takemaru’s correspondences.

He came to the mansion promptly, only three days after Izayoi had spoken to her father.

Presumably, he’d been told everything, because he didn’t even wait to meet her properly - he came straight through the main hall and into the women’s quarters to find her.

There was a flurry of shouts, mostly from maidservants who were staying outside of her rooms, begging him not to enter. She skittered behind one of the silken screens to hide herself – for him, there had never been a stringent need to conform to these rules and traditions, but now she felt too vulnerable not to. He knelt down in front of it. She could see his face, blurry through the silk-screen and cast in shadows, turned to the ground pensively.

“Izayoi-sama,” he said in greeting, almost carefully.

“Takemaru-sama,” she echoed back, though her voice trembled and sounded thin to her own ears.

“You’ve never done this before,” he said softly. He gestured vaguely to the screen between them, and then dropped his hand back into his lap. “Not since we first met. I don’t see why you feel the need to hide from me now.”

“Has my father explained… how much do you know?” she asked tentatively. Takemaru sighed deeply.

“I was told that you were made pregnant against your wishes. Is that why you refuse to see me, Izayoi?”

She felt a spike of nervousness through her; the lack of an honorific only meant two things, and it could be either be familiarity or disrespect. Beyond all hope, she prayed it was the former.

“I’m unclean,” she whispered. “That’s what everyone is saying.”

“Please, come out from there. I want to speak with you, like we’ve done before.”

“I’m afraid.”

“I love you.”

Izayoi stopped breathing for a moment. “What?”

“I love you, Izayoi-sama. Please don’t hide from me.”

Drawn out almost against her own will, she moved, shifting to sit in front of him, now face to face. He looked tired, but not angry, not spiteful or even upset. Then he leaned forward, pulling her tight fists apart with his fingers, tenderly and carefully, before lacing them with his own.

“I know what practice and tradition dictates in these situations,” he breathed. “But I know what men are capable of. Why would I stop wanting you now, after nearly a year’s worth of waiting, all over an accident that you surely played no part in?”

“You would marry a woman who’s been had before?” she said slowly, watching his face for even the slightest hint that he was lying to her.

“Do you think I’m the first man to take a wife who’s already pregnant?” he asked gruffly. “My only condition is that we marry before the end of the week. I’ve waited long enough.”

His yearning frightened her in a way that she couldn’t explain; no matter what she tried to say to dissuade him, he never listened. Even being pregnant with another man’s child wasn’t enough to stop him from wanting her – but instead of feeling like a sign of his unending devotion, it felt more like a trap, loaded and ready to spring and snare her. She didn’t want him to love her; she almost wished he would hate her instead, that he would scream himself hoarse and storm away from this mansion and never return.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead gently, and then tipped her chin up. He kissed her again, lips cautious on hers at first and then more insistent. It felt as though he was reiterating his claim on her - she understood suddenly that he saw her as belonging to him, not as a friend or a beloved woman that he cared for but a treasure he was afraid to lose.

Takemaru moved to kiss her deeper, gripping her forearms almost tight enough to bruise. His expression wasn’t one of love or of longing at all, but one of bitter, intense jealousy.

She pushed away from him in a rush – with some difficulty, because he was simply stronger than she was – and hurried out of the room without so much as a backwards glance. Izayoi kept running until she was sure she was at the opposite end of the mansion, her heart thudding ferociously in her chest, her ribs prickling with revulsion and anger.

He was going to be staying there for the remainder of the week. After all, there was a wedding to plan in haste, and so concessions could be made to the groom, who had so graciously accepted this ruined daughter of the Nanase clan. She made her way back to her room, creeping through the hallways and stepping back out into her garden as the sun began to set – she sat beneath a plum tree, curled in on herself, nearly until darkness had fallen. That was when Togao found her.

“Izayoi?”

“Dearest,” she gasped, standing in a rush and nearly colliding with him in the process. “Dearest, I didn’t believe it could get worse and then it did.”

“What on earth do you mean?” he asked, holding her arms to keep her steady. “What’s gotten worse?”

“My mother and father,” she started, nearly choking on her own tongue in the process. “They know, they know about the child- oh, gods, Takemaru knows, too, and he’s demanding that I marry him by the end of the week-”

“Demanding what?”

“I can’t marry him! I can’t marry him, dearest, he frightens me so much and I’m terrified of what will happen if I don’t get away from here. If only Ryukotsusei were dead…”

“But he isn’t,” Togao said slowly, trying to calm her down. “Has Takemaru hurt you, Izayoi?”

“No,” she replied sharply, terrified that he would tell her off for worrying about nothing. “No, he hasn’t, but whenever he kisses me I feel like I’m dying, like I would rather be anywhere else on earth.”

“I see,” he muttered, turning his head to look at the door into her room. “And he insists on marrying you.”

“Yes, no matter how hard I try to convince him to stop wanting to marry me. He… my whole family thinks I was… there are few fates worse for a woman than being defiled and left pregnant, and that’s what Takemaru believes has happened. Even that wasn’t enough.”

His eyes narrowed into slits.

“I can think of one thing that would stop him,” Togao said, his voice low and strange. “If nothing else will.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“I think it’s time to pay your betrothed a visit.”

“By the gods,” she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. That was a possibility she hadn’t even considered; even when she’d imagined the worst she’d secretly held out hope that Takemaru and Togao would never cross paths. It couldn’t be anything other than catastrophic. “No! Absolutely not!”

“And what else do you suggest, Izayoi?” he asked, clearly becoming frustrated. “Your family has given you less than a week’s notice, you’re pregnant, and Ryukotsusei still isn’t dead. What else would you have me do for you?”

“They already despise me enough for being pregnant in the first place,” she pleaded, heart racing. “If they knew that a demon had fathered it they’d… they’d…”

“They won’t lay so much as a little finger on you.” He’d cut her off, sweeping away and towards the door. She thought she might scream, but instead she tried to keep up with him as he walked right into her room and through the back halls.

“Please, there has to be something else-”

“You must think I’ve lost my mind,” he said coldly, not even stopping to look down at her. “And maybe I have, but we don’t have the luxury of sitting around and contemplating our next move anymore.”

She was irritated, angry in a way she hadn’t been since they’d first met, but his hard-headedness made her feel more panicked than anything else. It was pointless to argue; he was as unrelenting as the sea against the shore when he wanted to be, and she was in no position to stop him. Maids and servants scattered out of the way, gaping at the princess who trailed behind. The mansion was going to be in an absolute uproar by morning.

At last he came to one of the offset rooms in the main living quarters, where more intimate guests were frequently entertained in small numbers – she supposed he’d been able to track down her parents by scent or sound, but she was still surprised when he blew past the door and there were really people inside.

She took a breath, and followed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edited as of 1/4/2017)


	13. Chapter 12

He'd burst into the middle of a conversation. Izayoi had to admit that it was a little funny to watch everyone in the room freeze stiff, her mother and father both still with shock and Takemaru looking as though he'd just had a bucket of water dumped on his head.

But that was where the humor of the situation ended.

"Inu no Taisho," her father said, his voice squeaky and thin as he stood up. Her mother followed and Takemaru did as well, placing himself in front of Lady Nanase defensively. He was unarmed, but his hand twitched to his hip like he was reaching for a sword. "What can we do for you?"

Nobody had noticed Izayoi standing behind him, hidden by that large swath of cream colored fur on his back. She didn't speak.

"There's nothing you can do for me," he replied. He sounded commanding, detached, nothing like she was used to hearing. "But there is something you can do for your daughter."

"Izayoi?"

"Yes. Call off her wedding," he told him. "I assume this is her fiance?"

"How do you-" Takemaru sputtered, his face white, but he faltered as Izayoi stepped forward and into everyone's sight. She could feel their eyes on her rather than see them; she was staring at Togao and trying to make sense of his face, the impassivity of it, the stony set of his jaw.

"I don't understand," Lord Nanase said softly. "What is your concern for my daughter?"

"The child is mine."

The words hung heavily in the air, sinking into everyone slowly. He'd said it bluntly, unkindly, leaving no room for confusion or argument. She could already feel herself beginning to panic.

"This is some kind of a joke," Lord Nanase whispered, his hand over his chest. "She hasn't… we haven't seen you in over a year-"

"You haven't seen me," he corrected. "She has."

"My gods," Lady Nanase breathed, holding onto Takemaru and bowing as if she hadn't the strength to stand on her own. "Izayoi, what is the meaning of this? What have you done?"

"Haha-ue, I promise I didn't do any of this to hurt you," Izayoi blurted. Her vision was narrowing, the world going black around the edges. "I never thought it would go this far."

"What does that mean?" her father demanded, but he sounded distant.

"This isn't how I wanted it to happen," she gasped, choking, her limbs going numb. She turned to look at Togao again, hoping for any sign of support or strength, but he was still completely unreachable. Izayoi clutched at him, finding his arm and holding it for dear life. "I didn't want to tell them like this."

"Were you ever going to tell them?" he said softly to her, so that nobody else could hear.

"I-"

"Izayoi!"

Her father's voice was sharp, demanding, bringing her attention back to the other side of the room. His face was turning a sickly shade of red, eyes cold and hard.

"Chichi-ue," she tried, still holding onto her husband's arm. "What he says is true. I disobeyed you and returned to the forest, and- and I… we…"

"Enough," he snapped, holding up his hands. "I've heard enough!"

"I know it's too much to ask for you to forgive me-"

"Forgive you? For what? Destroying our family's only chance at happiness, or for your crime against the gods?"

"Chichi-ue," she breathed. She was starting to hyperventilate, her legs trembling beneath her, her eyes blurring.

"Save your tears. You are no longer my daughter."

Everything seemed to happen all at once. Her legs gave out suddenly, and Togao caught her in his arms, holding her up despite the fact that she had gone boneless. Her sight was unclear - she could only see his eyes, gold, warm.

But he had done a terrible thing to her. Her father's rejection was as painful as death; she'd known that leaving her family behind would hurt, that she would be sacrificing one love for another, but Togao had forced her hand and now she'd been cast out violently from them. She shoved at his chest, trying to push away, but her arms were weak.

"Izayoi," he murmured. "Izayoi, what's happening?"

"I don't know," she managed past her clumsy tongue and nerveless lips. "Let me go."

"You can't even stand on your own-"

"Let me go!" she cried, pushing again. This time it worked, and he released her; she caught a glimpse of his face once more and found it written all over with confusion and pain, but she spared no sympathy. It was difficult to move her feet, but she ran as best as she could to her mother, throwing herself before her and grasping the hem of her hakama in her shaking hands.

"Izayoi!"

"Haha-ue, please! Please don't hate me for what I've done!"

"My child," she sobbed, stooping down to collect her daughter into her arms. "What has this monster done to you?"

In her anger and her pain, she almost missed the way her mother's voice has twisted the word monster in disgust. Izayoi felt like there was poison in her veins in place of blood, a sickness in her gut which overwhelmed her. She turned her head - Takemaru had knelt beside them both, his hand on Lady Nanase's shoulder, his gaze locked on the demon in the room. His eyes were vicious, hateful.

For a moment she was tempted to forget it, and sink further into her despair - but then she remembered why she carried the child in the first place.

Togao had loved her despite her flaws, and there had been many. She had cried and argued with him, had drunk herself into a stupor, she had screamed and shouted. She had kissed him messily, passionately, and badly, knocking her teeth with his and missing his mouth. She'd loved him with every fiber of her soul - she'd promised herself and him that she would be faithful and honest and kind, that she would be his wife and love him until she drew her last breath.

Her heart ached for him when he was away and blazed back into painful, beautiful life when he returned to her. His soul was too large for his body and too large for hers - he loved her with an immortal language, one that was understood between them and them alone.

Her father had rejected her outright, and her mother believed she'd been tricked. Takemaru would not speak, only glare enviously at the man across the room. They hated him - and because they hated him, they hated a part of her, too.

She extricated herself, standing up and taking a few steps back.

"Would you believe me if I told you I loved him?" she whispered.

"Who could love a demon?" Lady Nanase replied, voice thick with sorrow. "He has enchanted you."

Izayoi shook her head. They were all staring at her again - she had nothing else to say, no other way to try to control the damage that had been done. She turned and walked away, past Togao, back through the hallways back into the open air.

She kept on going, only vaguely aware that she'd walked right out into the forest.

o0o

For a while, the solitude was soothing.

It was going to be difficult to deal with the fallout of her little episode, but she was too tired to think about it. She just laid herself down on a mossy patch of ground and stared at the canopy of trees above her, watching the sky grow darker and darker. The air was still sharp and bitter at night, but she felt strangely soothed by it. Her fingers splayed over her belly, feeling for the swell of it.

"Are you cold?" Togao asked her just before the sky finally went black. She hadn't heard him coming to find her, of course.

"Not one bit."

"You must be," he replied, trying to help her sit up. "Your lips are practically turning blue."

"Oh."

She still felt boneless. He tried, unsuccessfully, to get her to stand - when she didn't he simply scooped her up into his arms and began to carry her back home.

"That didn't go well," she said quietly. "My father disowned me and my mother thinks you've corrupted me."

"I'm sorry."

"Are you?" she murmured, her voice turning bitter. "You didn't listen to me. You just went right ahead and made everything worse. I'll be lucky if they even speak to me after this."

"They won't hurt you, at least. I made certain of that."

"Oh, so you threatened them as soon as I left? What good does that do?"

"Izayoi-"

"Don't pretend you always know what's best," she cut him off. "You aren't around that often, are you? My only friends here were my maids and my mother and you've taken that from me. What am I going to do?"

"Izayoi, you know I don't want to leave you alone, but Ryukotsusei demands my attention."

"And I don't."

"You aren't in danger of killing thousands of innocent people, Izayoi. I can't let you stay with me until he's dead and you know that, we've been over this a hundred times before-"

"Every time, you tell me that you love me and that this is the way it has to be," she said softly, not looking at him. "But I'm still alone, and it gets harder and harder to believe you."

"Don't ever say that," he replied, his grip on her tightening. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Why would I do any of this if I didn't love you?"

"Pride," she replied.

He was silent after that. She looked up at his face, but he wouldn't look back at her; he only stared straight ahead and kept on walking until he'd carried her through her home and into her room.

"You should sleep," he told her, laying her down across her bedding. He straightened out like he meant to walk away, but her hand caught his wrist before he could stand up.

"Are you leaving?"

"Shouldn't I?"

Izayoi shook her head harshly. "They know now. There's no fear of getting caught."

"I didn't think you'd want me to stay."

"You idiot," she breathed, tugging him down until he finally gave up and laid next to her. "Of course I want you to stay."

Togao sighed, but then he shuffled closer to her and wrapped his arms tight around her waist, bringing her in so that her back touched his chest. She could feel his breath on her skin, the tension in his body loosening slowly.

"Do you think I only love you out of pride?" he murmured, just as she was at the edge of sleep.

"No," she replied sleepily. "You're just stubborn sometimes. I wish you would trust me to know what's right."

"I do trust you. I don't trust _them_."

"Then you don't trust my judgement of them."

"You aren't seeing the whole picture, Izayoi," he said softly, bringing his lips to her neck. She tilted her head, too tired to argue. She'd been so lonely, anyway, and she craved his company too much to push him away. "I know what humans are capable of when they're angry or jealous."

"My parents could never cause me harm," she whispered, shutting her eyes. She was losing the will to speak. "Takemaru wants me too much to kill me."

Togao stilled, his kisses abruptly stopping below her ear. For a moment she didn't think anything of it, besides wondering vaguely what she might have said to deter him so suddenly.

Before she could register it, he'd moved and pushed her onto her back, straddling her legs with his. She felt wide awake out of nowhere, her heart picking up pace. He looked down at her, almost hungrily, his hands pinning her wrists near her head.

"What?" she laughed nervously. "What did I do?"

He shook his head, like he couldn't speak, and leaned down to kiss her. She was shocked by how desperate it was, as though he couldn't get enough of her. It was confusing. He was the sort of person who was run through with heat and passion, but he rarely lost his head to it. Izayoi broke the kiss herself, panting, frowning up at him.

"Are _you_ jealous?"

"No- I'm…" he laughed, too quickly, unconvincingly.

She wiggled out from his grasp, pushing him off of her. Izayoi turned onto her stomach, hiding her burning face from him - she was even angrier than she had been before.

"You can stay by the door tonight," she said shakily. "Make sure that nobody bothers me until I wake up myself."

He huffed, a short, frustrated sound; but he did move away from her, and she could hear him settling in over by the door. She hoped he was burning with anger too, just out of spite.

A bigger part of her wished that he was sleeping beside her instead.

o0o

He was still awake when she rose, apparently having kept a night-long vigil at her doorway. Instead of the usual morning routine - in which Nodoka, Chiyo, and Natsuki would come to dress her - she'd been left entirely alone and was now faced with the rather cumbersome task of doing it herself.

She frowned at Togao but didn't dismiss him. He only looked back at her, calm and even as still water.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Just fine," she replied, trying not to sound bitter. It wasn't entirely his fault that things had gone so poorly the night before, but he made an easy target for her anger. Besides, it was nothing he hadn't seen before.

Izayoi set to preparing herself, ignoring the fact that he was watching.

She rubbed her face clean, making due with a dry cloth since nobody had been willing to brave her husband to bring her fresh water, and plopped herself in front of her mirror so that she could paint her eyes and lips. And then, having done that, she swept herself over to her wardrobe and starting pulling out kimonos.

They very definitely were not appropriate colors for the season, but she felt rebellious and so she grabbed dark colors. They were womanly and scandalous.

She very seriously doubted that Togao would know the significance of it. He seemed more interested in the process of dressing, his eyes following the movements of her arms and shoulders as she slipped one layer on over the next. It was warming up, so she would keep it down to only about five or six today, but she was tempted to draw it out simply for the sake of giving him something to look at.

But she hadn't forgiven him yet. In a hurry she pulled on the topmost kimono - this one a wanton, brash shade of crimson - and untied her hair from its linen holders. It fell in a cascade down her back and around her shoulders.

Izayoi heard him suck in a breath and release it quickly, before he stood up and looked agitatedly at the door.

"There's a lot to deal with today," she said, more to herself than to him. "I wonder if you'll stay."

"It's my mess too," he replied quietly, looking her over. They didn't say anything else to each other; whether it was out of stubbornness or fear she couldn't tell. Her ire was quickly dying, replaced with nervousness.

She walked past him, out of her room, and he fell into step behind her. There was an odd silence between them, compounded by the silence of the mansion as people stopped what they were doing to stare at the two of them. Maids and servants and page boys alike all gaped at her first, and then at him - Izayoi couldn't help but smile to herself a little for it. He must have been easily the most godly looking creature any of them had seen in their lives, and he was following their princess around like a loyal pet.

Any amusement she felt died when she saw Takemaru, standing outside on one of the courtyard's wooden pathways. He was staring down at the water beneath it, like he was deep in thought, but his eyes snapped up to hers before she had time to turn and leave.

His expression turned her blood to ice - she'd never seen so much contempt on anyone's face before. Much less _his_ face, which had always been practiced and kind and handsome. He wasn't even really looking at her, but at the man behind her, like he could burn a hole through his skull with his eyes alone.

Izayoi tensed, ready to leave, but Takemaru was already coming closer. Togao shifted beside her, drawing himself up taller.

"So," Takemaru began. He'd sauntered over, his posturing confident despite the anger she could hear seeping into his words. "You had the gall to stay an entire night?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Togao asked smoothly.

"You aren't welcome here."

"I only do as Izayoi wishes."

Takemaru looked over to her, as though he was waiting for her to say something against Togao, or perhaps in defense of her virtue - if there was even any of that left. She nodded, fiddling with the hems of her sleeves.

Takemaru scoffed, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

Izayoi felt her face heat up. His reaction was certainly more aimed at her husband than at her, but it felt like a personal insult nonetheless. Suddenly her bright red kimono felt less like a sign of her dignity and power and more like a target.

"And why do I find that hard to believe?" he went on, folding his arms over his chest. "What is a demon's word good for? The princess would never behave so shamelessly without coercion-"

"Just what are you accusing me of?" Togao laughed, voice dry and humorless. "Don't presume to know what she would or wouldn't do, or what I would do, you ignorant little whelp."

Izayoi frowned, and then gasped. Takemaru had gone for his sword, not drawing it, but certainly preparing to. She could feel herself getting lost in the conversation between them; they were talking around her, about her, but not to her.

"You monsters are all the same," Takemaru sneered, his knuckles going white where he gripped the hilt. "If you think you can steal her from me so easily, think again."

"Steal her from you? As if she's ever been yours."

Takemaru's fury was lit like a fuse, and all at once he pulled the blade out of its sheath.

"She is mine or nobody's, even if I have to kill a hundred yokai!"

Izayoi felt a terrifying wave of yoki rush over her, tingling up her spine, and when she looked at Togao she was shocked to see that his face had transformed.

It was still arranged in the features of a man, but the coloring was all wrong. His skin had gone pale, the violet blue markings on his cheeks stark and jagged. But his eyes were easily the most jarring part - the whites of them had gone blood red, his irises no longer gold but instead a cold, icy blue. Izayoi suppressed a cry of alarm, only cut off because he moved too quickly for her to process it. In an instant he'd knocked the sword directly out of Takemaru's hands and had grabbed him by the collar of his robes. His toes just brushed the ground.

And still, despite being physically held up by a demon in mid-transformation, his expression never changed from anger to fear.

"Have I upset you, beast?"

"You must feel very brave," Togao growled. "But bear in mind that I have slaughtered armies of men without even pausing for breath. What's one more man to that total?"

Izayoi felt a spike of fear run through her, imagining how this might end - Takemaru was stupid and foolish, but he didn't deserve to die, and especially not at the hand of her beloved. She had never heard him talk about taking human life before, only his desire to preserve it, and she suddenly wondered just how much she hadn't been told about his bloody history.

"Stop it!" she cried, startling them both. "Just stop it."

"Izayoi-"

"Togao, let him go already," she demanded, finding her most noble and dignified voice and sticking to it. "What could he possibly do to you?"

He hesitated for only a second, the red bleeding back out of his eyes and his skin warming with color again, before he released the other man. Takemaru stumbled gracelessly, clutching at his chest with one hand and staring at her.

"You!" she cried, whirling on him and pointing her finger accusingly. "How dare you insult my honor like that, and how dare you claim to own me? I belong to no man, least of all you!"

"Izayoi-sama, I didn't mean to-"

"Enough."

She was practically shaking. Still, she reigned it in and held her head up high, glaring at both men.

"I won't have you getting into petty brawls like a pack of wild animals."

Togao seemed more affected by this than Takemaru, averting his gaze from her. He must have been ashamed; but she could only guess because she'd never seen it on him before.

With nothing left to say, she picked up the hem of her hakama and stomped away from them, a perfect picture of haughty indignation. But this was only until she was well out of sight; she leaned heavily against one of the wooden pillars and gripped the banister in her trembling hands.

Whether he'd realized it or not, Togao's threats had hit home in her as well. It had been too easy to forget his inhumanity - in the haze of love and desire she'd spent the last year wrapped up in, she nearly had. His fangs and claws and eyes had seemed more like oddities than like features of his true nature.

She wondered how much blood was really on his hands, if he'd ever killed anyone like her before. The thought made her stomach turn.

"There you are."

Izayoi nearly jumped out of her skin, turning to look at him with wide eyes.

"Don't talk to me," she hissed, but her voice wobbled too much to be properly vicious.

"Izayoi," he sighed, running a hand through his bangs. "I'm sorry."

"Do you think we're all just numbers?" she asked. "How many of us you can save, how many you can kill? Is that what I am to you?"

"Is that what this is all about?"

"Answer the question!" she told him sharply.

"No, of course you aren't. I've told you all of this before-"

"You think humans are inferior," she went on, the words pouring out in a stream. "You think we're all simple minded, quaint little animals."

"I don't!"

"Why don't you listen to me? Why won't you trust my judgement? Why can't you understand that sometimes I know better than you?"

"You are still so young," he said, clearly growing frustrated. "You've never seen the things I have, you don't know how cruel the world can be-"

"But I know my own heart!" Izayoi cried, eyes filling with angry tears. "And I know my family like the back of my hand! You insist on protecting me from everything, but who do I need to be protected from? My parents, who've loved me since before I was born, or from Takemaru, who practically worships the ground I walk on? Or is it from you?"

She was trembling all over, her heart in her throat.

"I'm trying to protect you from betrayal, Izayoi," he nearly shouted back. "Have you missed the contempt in their eyes?"

"Maybe they wouldn't hate me so much if you hadn't rushed in without thinking and told them everything!" she pointed out. "But you insisted there was no other choice, without even stopping to ask what I thought first. I may as well die of loneliness, anyway, since now I'm so safe from everyone that they won't even talk to me."

He looked struck, his face going pale. Against her own better judgement, she kept on speaking.

"I'm beginning to wonder if I've made a mistake. If you can't promise me that you'll listen to me, then what choice do I have? I love you, but you aren't worth living a life of isolation for."

It had hurt her to even say the words; she knew it would be hard for him to hear, but she was not prepared for his reaction.

"I can't lose you," he whispered, so softly she could barely hear him. "Humans die so easily and so quickly. I only thought of keeping you safe."

"There's more than one way to lose someone, Togao. I'm going to die eventually."

He reached for her, and she didn't run or try to escape - it was really what she wanted anyway, to be held and comforted. The thought of not being with him frightened and upset her, being left alone with nothing but his memory and his child.

"I've thought about ways to cheat death," he murmured into her hair, his voice thick. His arms were tight around her and she sank into his embrace, gripping his back. "But I can't do it forever. Some day you will die, and I don't know what I'll do. I won't lose you before it's your time."

"Nobody knows when it's their time or not," she whispered. "Death is hardly ever fair. You can't possibly know when it'll happen, and even if you delay it for awhile it'll still come for me."

"I know."

"Then why are you fighting it?"

"I'm selfish," he replied. "I've told you. I'm selfish, and I love you, and I don't want to live without you. I have never felt such an intense urge to protect someone and it terrifies me."

His admission of fear was surprising to her, but it seemed to fit - people behaved irrationally when they were afraid, and acted in a blind panic. It didn't absolve him, but it was something to start with.

She hadn't realized that he had been crying, either. Izayoi felt the warm tears on her cheeks and assumed they were her own, until one hit her forehead. Togao was shaking.

"It's okay to be afraid," she said soothingly, taking his face into her hands. "Humans spend our whole lives afraid, but we live anyway. It doesn't matter that we're going to be apart someday. We're together _now_."

He exhaled a long breath, shutting his eyes and leaning his forehead against hers. For a moment he was still, and she let him relax into her.

"How are you so brave?" he asked, wrapping his arms tighter around her waist. "You have no way of fighting back, and very few ways of protecting yourself."

"I know that. I just have to trust the people around me, and hope for the best."

"I promise you," he said quietly. "I won't leave you alone for any longer than is absolutely necessary."

It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was all they had.

o0o

Eventually she became used to the quiet.

There was an unexpected perk that came from everyone's silence: they didn't speak to her, but it seemed they weren't talking amongst themselves either. They must have believed that the demon could hear their thoughts and gossip through supernatural means, or else he had told them outright that if he heard them talking about her there would be dire consequences. Either way, it kept her secret safe in the halls of the mansion and out of the heads of the villagers that lived nearby.

Aside from that, Togao kept his promise. He was around during the day more often than before, and stayed with her at night - but he hardly ever slept, instead staying awake and watching over her.

"Don't you ever get tired?" she asked one afternoon, while she fussed with a piece of embroidery.

"Not really," he told her, but she thought he was lying. There was darkness under his eyes and she'd caught him yawning a few times, blinking quickly to fight off exhaustion.

"You don't need to push yourself so hard," she laughed. "I'm sure I'll be fine long enough for you to take a nap."

He pulled a face, as though he doubted her somehow. But she meant it; since the morning sickness had started to calm down there wasn't much to bother her.

"If it'll make you feel better…" she said, setting aside the fabric and crossing her legs. She patted her thighs and gestured for him to come lay his head in her lap.

He sighed, appearing to debate it with himself for a moment, before giving in and laying himself down in front of her. Izayoi's hands found their way into his hair, her fingers rubbing his scalp. His eyes slipped shut after a minute or two, and when his breathing evened out she thought he might be asleep.

"I can hear its heartbeat," he murmured, startling her slightly. "Our child's."

"What does it sound like?" she whispered back.

"Strong. And fast," he sighed, turning slightly and opening his eyes to look up at her. He almost looked mesmerized, halfway between consciousness and sleep. "It's been… a long time since I've heard that sound."

"Did you miss it?"

"Yes," he admitted, shutting his eyes again. "Izayoi?"

"Hm?"

"Life is never going to be easy for us."

Her hands stilled, tangled in his obscenely long hair. "I already knew that," she laughed gently, staring down at him, memorizing the curves of his face. He was relaxed despite himself, his mouth soft and his eyelashes thick and dark against his cheek.

"I can never promise that you'll be completely safe," he went on. "There will always be the threat of violence against us."

"I knew that too," she whispered. "You'll keep us safe, though."

"What if I couldn't?"

"You worry too much," Izayoi chided, petting his hair again. "Get some rest, and then think about everything with a clear mind. I promise the sleep will help."

"You're rather incredible, you know," he said, a little smile starting to pull at his lips.

She felt a prickle of pleasure and pride up her spine.

They had both changed so much since they'd met two years before; she'd become wiser and braver, stronger, more level-headed. Izayoi felt as though she'd truly come into womanhood - she wasn't the stubborn and foolish girl she'd been when he'd first found her in the forest.

And he had grown, too. His heart was open now, his love and kindness overwhelming.

She'd never expected this to be the outcome of her plans. She doubted he had expected it, either - his goal had only been to protect her from the dangers of other demons. Izayoi held him until he fell asleep, watching him go lax and his eyes flit around under the eyelids as he dreamed. Her heart ached for him, wishing she could give him everything he'd given her and so much more.

Izayoi wanted to protect him from his fears and his pain, more than anything else. She wanted to curl up around his heart and guard it from harm.

o0o

Summer hit its peak, and Izayoi felt the child begin to move. It was strong and healthy, and once it had discovered the ability to kick and squirm, she barely got a moment's peace. The only thing that seemed to help was singing and playing her koto until the violent movements calmed down.

She spent hours singing to herself, which was a good distraction from the silence that followed her around whenever Togao had to leave. Most of the time her maids kept their distance from her, except for Nodoka, who still came in at morning and at night to help her dress and undress - but even then she hardly spoke more than two words at a time. It had stopped mattering to Izayoi.

Her mother and father were quiet, and Takemaru spent a lot of time at the mansion. She couldn't guess what he had to talk about with them, but she tried not to worry about it. She was simply biding her time until she could leave them and live her life freely again.

Togao returned whenever he possibly could, but it was to be expected that he might not have as much time to spend with her. She could see how he carried his stress, how tense he was when he came back to her.

"Don't think about anything," she would whisper when he walked in the door, taking him into her arms and keeping him close. "Not while you're here."

"I can't let it go that easily," he replied, burying his face into her hair.

"Try," she told him, pulling him down to kiss her. That was the only surefire way to loosen him up. She was happy to kiss him until he couldn't think of anything but her.

It seemed like the more agitated and nervous he became, the stronger his desire was. He gathered her little frame up in his arms and kissed her ferociously, his one hand knotted up in her hair and the other splayed over the small of her back. It would be a brief reprieve, she knew, only an hour or two before he'd be back to pacing around her like a guard dog.

She lay with him afterwards, drowsy despite the fact that it was only late noon, her head resting on his chest as he breathed. He was quiet for a while, only tracing his fingers lazily over her bare shoulders and back, as though he was enjoying the heat and laziness of a summer's afternoon and had no pressing matters to attend to. Izayoi almost startled when he finally broke the silence.

"I'm going to take you away when it's all over," he murmured. She shifted and looked up at his face, watching him stare up dreamily at the ceiling. "You'll never want for anything. I'm going to build you a castle of your own and fill it with servants and we won't ever have to do a thing except for eat and sleep and make love."

She laughed, propping herself up over him. "Won't you be bored?"

"No," he shrugged. "I'm tired of fighting, Izayoi."

It suddenly made sense that he would daydream about such mundane things. His anxiety had finally overtaken him.

"We'll find other things to do, I'm sure," she said, biting her lip. He was still not looking at her - she found herself more worried than she had been before. "What are you thinking about?"

"There's no hiding from you, is there?" he replied, voice gentle. "I feel I've stretched myself thin."

"What do you mean?"

"There are a lot of lives at stake right now," he explained. "The lives of humans I've never even met, the army that follows me now, yours, our child's, mine."

She froze. He'd never openly admitted that his own life was in danger before.

"Don't try to do everything alone," she breathed. "Surely you have allies? Ask them for help."

"Only the ones whose land is being threatened. I can't keep asking people to fight and die on my behalf."

She sat up suddenly, surprising him. Her chest was rising and falling quickly, her only scrap of modesty being the hair over her shoulders and down her back.

"You're willing to die for them," she pointed out. "Why wouldn't they do the same for you?"

"It's never been like this before," he told her, following her so that he could look at her properly. "There was never any danger I couldn't manage. Or maybe it's just that there was never any fear I couldn't manage."

She waited, watching him think. He looked her over and tilted his head.

"I wasn't afraid for my sons life. Not since he was born. Sesshomaru has always been strong and sure," he said softly. "The boy is going to be stronger than me someday. And I never worried about his mother either, because she was the same way."

Izayoi nodded, reaching to take his hand.

"Have you ever heard of a hanyo?" he asked. "Do you know what happens to them?"

"No," she admitted.

"They have human hearts," he explained. "Human hearts, and demon blood. Many of them die immediately after they're born, because they're only half formed."

Izayoi's brows furrowed, a hand coming to cover her mouth.

"I don't think our child will have that problem," he said gently, soothing her. "But the ones that do survive face a dangerous, frightening world. There will always be those who seek to destroy what they feel is an affront to nature, whether they're human or demon. And sometimes they even face danger from their own blood. Human bodies aren't built to contain yoki."

"What do you mean?" she whispered.

"There's a chance that our child will lose their soul," he said grimly. "The blood of my forefathers is a powerful thing."

"But there must be a way," she replied, staving off a wave of despair. Somehow she knew that it couldn't be so hopeless, that there had to be a solution.

"I've thought about it," he told her. She could see that it had been a burden on his mind for some time, that telling her was a relief. "If there's a way to seal the yoki and prevent it from overwhelming them… I'm not sure."

Izayoi stopped and considered it. She knew very little about yoki and demon blood, but she felt like there was an idea just poking at the back of her brain, one she couldn't put her finger on.

"Can you… put the power somewhere else?" she tried. "Is there a way to draw it out of the body somehow?"

Togao's eyes went wide all of a sudden, and he looked down at her in awe.

"By the gods," he said, holding her hands. "I can't believe I didn't consider… it's been here this whole time…"

"What has?"

"Tessaiga!" he laughed, his face bright. "The sword that I had forged for your protection can be used to protect our child, too."

"How?"

"It works by using the yoki of its wielder, which is why humans can't use it. It draws their power into itself and transforms! As long as our child has the sword…"

"They'll never be overcome," she finished, smiling back at him. He nodded, and pulled her into his arms.

"What would I do without you?" he breathed, light and happy for the first time in weeks. "Izayoi."

She buried her face in his bare chest, smiling. It was one less thing to worry about - with that fear conquered, suddenly everything else seemed less impossible.

o0o

Autumn came and cooled; Izayoi had passed another year of her life. The ground froze hard for the first time that season and the snow had begun to fall - and this was when Togao decided it was time.

"I don't believe it will take very long," he told her one evening. She was propped up, uncomfortable in the late stage of pregnancy, reading a letter from Ayako. "My army is ready and eager to fight. I think Ryukotsusei himself will be the greatest challenge."

She folded the paper, looking at him. His face was pensive, and she knew that underneath his commanding voice and regal stature there was fear and apprehension.

"You've prepared for months," she said softly. "You've done all you can. Now all that's left is to trust your companions and to trust yourself."

"Of course," he murmured, and closed the gap between them to kiss her forehead, her cheeks, and then finally her lips.

He stayed close to her for the whole week before he departed, lingering around her like a shadow in the corners and staying close beside her at all times. She wondered if his mood affected the child's, somehow, because it had become restless inside of her. It was becoming cramped, and so the infant kicked around and shifted like it wanted nothing more than to be free.

Then, before she was really ready to let him go, it was time. He left early in the morning, Myoga perched on his shoulder as he stood in her doorway. He was fully dressed in armor, So'unga strapped to back and the two swords he'd forged stuck through his obi and resting at his hip. He looked every last bit like the leader that he was by name, terrifying, strong, and sure.

"Come back to me," she pleaded. "No matter what happens, promise you'll return in one piece."

"I will."

She felt so small next to him, a human woman beside a powerful yokai - but she knew there was more to them than that. Hidden in her tiny body was love equal to a force of nature, overwhelmingly strong, one that had give her the courage to hold her head up high through these last few months of ostracization and suspicion. She was proud of who she'd become. She was proud of _them._

"I love you," she breathed, reaching to place her hands on either side of his face. "I will be waiting for you to return."

He nodded, and leaned in to kiss her. It couldn't have lasted very long, but that didn't matter - when he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to hers, and she felt more loved than she'd ever been before.

"Don't go through the garden," she said softly. "Go through the front gate and I'll see you off like a proper wife."

Togao smiled, and set off through the hallway with her following close behind. There was a heavy quality to the air, stifling, everyone frozen in place as they watched. Izayoi's parents were nowhere to be seen, and neither was Takemaru, but any servants who'd been caught by the open veranda facing the mansion entrance stopped in their tracks to watch.

"I'll return," he said, loud enough for them to hear. Then, more quietly, he spoke only for her - "If anything goes wrong, I'll send Myoga to you. He'll keep us in touch."

Izayoi nodded mutely, and popped up on her toes to kiss him one last time. Finally, he parted from her, bowed his head in respect, and turned to disappear into the forest and into the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edit as of 5/23/17: 
> 
> Inupapa nooo )


	14. Chapter 13

Togao hadn't been gone for very long before Izayoi realized that something had changed in the household's atmosphere. There had been tension before, of course, but it seemed like it had grown - there was a sense that everyone was lying in wait for something tremendous, as though a storm was coming.

It made her deeply uneasy. Takemaru had departed the day after Togao, without explaining his reason to her, and when he returned two days later she understood why.

He had brought an army with him. The mansion was filled with men - most of whom were also samurai, some younger and some older. They all deferred to Takemaru - it was jarring to see him as a commander, though in the back of her mind she always knew he was one. She kept to herself, maintaining an appropriate distance from them.

For the first time in months, her maids spoke to her freely. She couldn't understand immediately why they had chosen to return to her company, but nevertheless she was relieved to have someone to talk to.

"Why does Takemaru-sama need an army?" she asked, as Nodoka laid out fresh clothing for her one morning. Natsuki and Chiyo stole a nervous look at each other, but Nodoka paid them little mind. She didn't even look up when she spoke:

"He's going to battle."

"But why is he preparing _here?_ It doesn't make sense that he would move his troops all the way to our mansion just for that. Doesn't he have a camp, or something?"

"Izayoi," she said seriously, finally making eye contact. "This mansion is going to be the battleground."

Her heart stopped and started jerkily. Beside her, Chiyo whispered - "Are you supposed to be telling her this?"

"Telling me what?" she demanded. "Have you been keeping secrets from me?"

"Everyone has," Natsuki said carefully, not meeting her eyes. "We didn't want to, but it was on his lordship's orders. He's leaving soon, though, so it shouldn't matter."

"Leaving?" Izayoi cried, standing abruptly. "What's going on?"

"Calm down, child," Nodoka told her firmly, coming closer to dress her. She fiddled with Izayoi's sleeping yukata and began to remove it, but Izayoi batted her hands away. "Your mother and father are leaving the mansion for a few days, just until everything settles."

"What are you talking about?" she said frantically, angry. "Why wasn't I told about this?"

"Because we all knew how you would react," Nodoka said, frowning. 

"I'm perfectly reasonable," Izayoi spat back, turning to the younger maids. They both looked like they wanted to evaporate. "Has everyone in here lost their minds?"

"They were only trying to protect you," Chiyo explained quietly. "This is for the best."

"When are they leaving?"

"Hime-sama…"

"Please, just tell me," she said, her voice tired to her own ears.

"In less than an hour, I would reckon," Nodoka chimed in, still calm and nearly disinterested. "The girls are leaving with them. Almost everyone is."

"What?" Izayoi cried, and without any further hesitation she picked up a large, heavier kimono to cover her sleeping clothes and headed towards the hallway. Nodoka shouted after her, going on about indecency, but Izayoi didn't stop until she'd found the entrance hall.

Just as Nodoka had said, they were leaving. They each stood in traveling clothing, and outside Izayoi could see palanquins lined up for a journey. Her father was talking to Takemaru, who was completely armed and looked less like her fiancé and more like a warrior. It took a moment before they even noticed her.

"Ah, you're awake," her father said, eyes glancing over her. She clutched her robe self consciously.

"Why didn't anyone tell me about this?" she asked. "Where are you going."

"Only to the Matsushita mansion," her mother replied nervously. "We'll be back soon."

"You're leaving me behind?"

"This is entirely necessary, I assure you," her father told her sternly. "You'll be under Takemaru-sama's watch. I expect you to follow his instructions to the word."

"You can't go!" she cried furiously. "I don't understand!"

"Please don't yell at your father," her mother said gently, her eyes filled with sadness. "It isn't safe for us to stay."

"Why on earth not?"

"We could be killed as collateral damage," he told her through gritted teeth. "The monster might not harm you, but I doubt the same can be said for us. This will not be an easy battle."

All at once she felt her stomach twist. Outside, there were men in armor, but she hadn't realized that there were also men in holy garments - you only brought priests into battle if you were fighting yokai, or if you needed to purify someone or something.

"You're going to kill him," she breathed. "And I'm the bait."

"If all goes well, yes," Lord Nanase said tiredly. He looked like he was ready to pick up and leave immediately, like he wanted to be anywhere else but there. "But you will be safe. Everyone here is under strict orders to protect you at any cost."

"You've doomed these men," she explained, her voice shaking. "The Inu no Taisho is… he's… if he believes I'm in danger, he'll stop at nothing."

"We are well aware of that," Takemaru told her, finally speaking. He walked over to her and she took a step back instinctively. "Every man here is prepared to die, if necessary."

"You send them to a needless death!" she pleaded. "You don't have a single chance of defeating him!"

"Ah, but we do," he said, his voice twisting in sick amusement. "Do you think you're the only person who knows he's gone to battle with a dragon? They're saying he's finally met his match."

"No," she whispered, panic setting in. "He won't fail."

"He has an obvious weakness," he went on, leaning in towards her. "It's you, Izayoi. He will come to you whether he is battle-weary, exhausted, or on the brink of death, and that's why we have a chance."

She felt her legs go weak, and Takemaru caught her by her arms and held her up. She shook her head furiously, wanting to escape.

Togao had warned her that her family might betray her, and she realized she hadn't truly considered it. The reality of her situation set in, and her eyes filled with hot, angry tears.

"You coward," she spat at her father, who was already turning to leave. The maids had come in while she was distracted, helping her mother take their things outside. Only Nodoka stayed behind. "You don't care whether I live or die! You hate him so much that you would rather allow me to suffer-"

" _Silence!_ " he yelled back at her, his face mottled red. "I am doing this to free you! Despite everything that has happened, you can still be saved. If we didn't believe that there was still a chance, you and that… half-breed you carry would have been cast out of the bloodline by now."

Izayoi slumped in Takemaru's arms, her tears coming freely now. They had seriously considered taking her and her child's life.

"When he is dead, and the half-breed is disposed of, you will understand. It's the only way to break whatever enchantment he's forced you under."

"There was never any spell! He _loves_ me! You have to know that, somewhere in your heart, because there is no other reason for him to risk his life to come to me. You wouldn't be using me as bait if you didn't know that!"

"You're a foolish girl," Lord Nanase replied, more quietly this time. "You always have been. You're nothing more than a vessel for his child. I can't think of any other reason for a daiyokai to want to seduce a human girl."

"I wasn't-" she began, but she was cut off by pain.

It was sharp and hard in her abdomen, like a cramp, but far stronger. All week she'd had weak cramps, no more severe than the ones she had during her cycles - Nodoka had told her they were no more than practice for real labor, and not to worry about them.

But this one was much, much more powerful than those. Izayoi knew immediately what it meant.

"No," she whispered to herself, "no, little one, not now."

"Izayoi?" the lady of the house called, clear to her through everything. "What is it?"

"The child," she called back, trying to pull away from Takemaru's strong grasp, wanting desperately to be in her mother's arms instead. "It's going to come soon."

"Then we have to leave," Lord Nanase announced, grabbing his wife's arm and pulling her bodily from her shock and concern. "We can't be here for this."

"Husband, wait, she's-"

"She's having a demon's child. You mustn't get attached to it or else you might risk wanting to protect it."

He wouldn't have dared to harm the child while it was still inside of her, for fear that she would be harmed as well. But the moment the baby had been born, it was no longer safe - and what protection would an infant and a labor tired mother have against an army of men?

She would have to give birth alone, without her mother's encouragement, without her husband, without anyone in the world to look after her except for an old nurse. And now her parents were really and truly leaving, walking away from their disgraced daughter and the man who'd sworn to protect her. She watched them helplessly as they stepped into their palanquins - Lady Nanase turned her head almost imperceptibly, right as she prepared to duck through the curtain and disappear, but decided at the last moment not to look back. Izayoi knew, somehow, what that meant - her mother was afraid, too.

Another painful contraction washed over her, and she finally gave in and sank to her knees. Takemaru followed, trying to keep her from hurting herself, but she pushed at him to leave her alone.

"You'll be alright soon, I promise," he whispered soothingly. Izayoi shook her head.

"You're going to kill them both," she breathed. "How do you expect me to live after that?"

"You won't be alone, Izayoi-sama. This will all be like a bad memory to you when all's said and done," he went on. "But you'll understand once they're gone."

"Everyone thinks I'm bewitched!" she cried, now looking at his face and meeting his concerned eyes. "You think that when he and the child are gone, I'll forget about all of this, that I'll marry you and have your children."

"That was always the plan, wasn't it?"

She laughed bitterly, swelling with an anger that she'd never felt for this man before. Izayoi blinked away the last tears in her eyes, overwhelmed instead by hate and pain.

"You're kidding yourself," she whispered. "I love him. I've only ever loved him, and I'd rather die a hundred times over than give myself to someone else."

Takemaru's expression changed, moving from worry to something more dangerous. He hardened his gaze, his hands tightening on her upper arms until it almost hurt.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said. "This is the power that beast has over you."

"How can you be so sure?" she challenged. "Look at me now, and tell me that you're certain."

The corner of his upper lip turned up in a sneer, and then it was gone, replaced by a careful, neutral expression. His hands fell away from her, and he stood, looking down at her almost pityingly.

"You'll come to your senses, I think. I have other things to attend to right now. If you need my assistance, call for me."

He turned sharply away from her, and walked back into the open courtyard, leaving her completely to herself.

o0o

The day felt as though it was passing with an agonizing pace. She was ushered into the women's quarters, back into an unused room that had a large silken canopy set up in the middle of it. Nodoka was by her side for the first few hours of labor, encouraging her to walk about the room, telling her how to breathe, and watching for signs that she might be progressing.

Izayoi had never been in so much pain before, and it was overwhelming; her body ached, the child pressing down against her like a leaden weight, the cramps coming in strong, unstoppable waves. She wondered if she could even do it, if she was strong enough herself to give birth. Childbirth _killed_ women - the thought of it suddenly frightened her to her bones.

"I know it hurts," Nodoka said, rubbing her back as she stopped her pacing to hold the wall and breathe through another contraction. "I know, I know."

Izayoi gritted her teeth against it, waiting it out and trying to breathe - and when it was over she felt a rush of sadness through her.

"Nodoka?"

"Yes, missus?"

"Why did you stay behind?"

There was a long pause, and at first Izayoi thought she was avoiding the question. But then the old woman sighed, her hand rubbing slow, careful circles on Izayoi's shoulders.

"I know more about childbirth than any of the other maids. Your parents wanted you in good hands," she explained. "But I was glad to do it, missus."

"I know you don't approve," Izayoi said, her voice choking. "And I've been nothing but trouble to you."

"I've loved you since you were a wee thing, hime-sama, and that won't change because you made some foolish mistakes. Demon's child or no, I will help you deliver safely, and you'll just have to put up with my nagging a bit longer."

Izayoi turned to face her, surprised to see that her eyes were sad, nostalgic, and warm all at once. Nodoka had never told her she loved her before, and it washed over Izayoi like a tide, her own eyes burning.

"Do you think I'm bewitched?" she asked softly. "Honestly?"

"I've known you for far too long to buy into that drivel," she told her, and shrugged. "You are the same as you've always been, temperamental and headstrong and always looking for something naughty to get into. You've been in your right mind this whole time, and whatever happened between you and that devil... I've no doubt you instigated it."

The words themselves were harsh, but it was comforting somehow. To Izayoi, who knew Nodoka's nature, and who valued her own sense of strength and willfulness above nearly all else, it was actually a compliment. She smiled with real, genuine warmth, before another contraction began and the cycle of walking and waiting started itself over once more.

By dusk she was completely exhausted, the child still inside of her - but she prayed that her little one would hold on a bit longer, even if it hurt and every fiber of her body screamed at her to push it out. Nodoka had left her to lie alone and rest for a while, walking around outside to keep the men in Takemaru's army away from her quarters.

The sun had just set when she felt a tiny pin prick in her neck, and she almost wept from relief.

"Myoga," she whimpered to the flea. She tried to sit up, but it was difficult.

"My lady!" he cried, flustered, and immediately she knew something wasn't right. "My lady, I can't stay for long. I shouldn't have run away in the first place-"

"Run away?"

"I'm so sorry, Izayoi-sama! The master did not want to worry you, but I promised him I would come and see if you were safe," he babbled. "He suspected that Takemaru might try something like this."

"Never mind that," she replied, shaking her head. "Is he safe?"

Myoga hedged, not meeting her eyes. She repeated the question, quickly becoming fearful and impatient.

"Master knew the battle would be difficult," he said, his voice careful. "It has been long, and he is growing tired."

"Oh no," she breathed. "Myoga, promise me something."

"Izayoi-sama?"

"Don't let him come," she said, her voice firm and strong even as another contraction hit. She only paused for a moment before she went on. "No matter what happens to me, you can't let him return. They're going to kill him."

"That is easier said than done, but I will try," he replied. "I fear he will push himself too far."

"You can't let him die!" she gasped, shutting her eyes against the pain in her womb. "Please, Myoga, promise me!"

"I promise," he told her, hopping about on her shoulder in concern. "Are you alright?"

"The baby has worse timing than its father," she laughed weakly. "It's decided to come now, of all times."

"By the gods," he cried. "I must return to him!"

"Please, do whatever you can to keep him safe. I don't care what happens to me, just don't let him get hurt."

"He said the same thing about you, Izayoi-sama," Myoga told her somberly. "I will give him this news."

"Tell him… tell him that I love him," she added, catching his attention before he turned to hop away. "I love him more than anything."

"He has said that about you as well, my lady," he told her quietly, and finally he left to return to his master's side.

o0o

When night came, she entered something like a calm.

The moon was full, as beautiful as it had been the first night she'd snuck out into the forest with Togao. But she could see something dark creeping into it's path, like a shadow, waiting to blot out its silvery beams.

The child did not want to wait any longer, no matter how dangerous the outside world would be. It kicked and pushed, fussing over every contraction, trying ferociously to be free of her. She was nearly ill from the pain of fighting it, practically delirious, and so finally she began to give in to the urge to push. Izayoi had only managed two or three before she heard heavy footsteps outside of her canopy.

"Who is it?" she whispered, unable to muster the strength for anything more.

"Setsuna no Takemaru."

"Takemaru?"

She was bewildered for a moment; Nodoka should have stopped him from entering. Men were supposed to be forbidden from the birthing room, even Takemaru, and so she realized he must have had an important reason for being here.

Izayoi remembered how she had treated him earlier and cringed. She'd never meant to hurt him - he was no more than an innocent bystander, pulled unwillingly into a tryst between a human and a demon. She felt guilty; not that she hadn't chosen him, but because his blood would be on her hands. He didn't deserve to die.

"Thank goodness you're here," she tried, praying that he still cared for her enough to listen to her, even if she had offended him before. "Please, gather the men outside and leave immediately. There is no one who can defy him."

"Izayoi-sama... I've long felt a deep attachment towards you. Even if your heart has been captured by a demon."

He sounded all wrong to her, suddenly aggressive, and she heard the clicking of his armor and the sound of steel. She didn't have time to react; she barely moved away before the tip of his spear came down. It had missed her heart - but the pain was blinding. It was lodged in between her ribs on her right side.

She gasped, unable to breathe, watching the little candle beside the canopy huff itself out. He was speaking again.

"My feelings for you will never change."

He left her to die on the birthing room floor. Izayoi had known he was jealous, and for a fleeting moment she felt foolish for not putting more distance between them, for ever letting him believe she loved him - but she'd never expected to be killed for her mistake. Her head lolled towards the open canopy, where she saw the moon. It was being eclipsed by darkness, it's light swallowed up whole by a hungry shadow.

And then, carried on the winter's air, she heard the howl of a monstrous dog rip through the stillness. Togao had come for her after all.

It snapped her out of the fog of her dying brain. She gripped the spear in her side, ignoring the burning in her nerves and hot, sticky blood around her hands, and ripped it from her body. Her child would not die inside of her - she braced, gave into the urge, and _pushed._

The motion would certainly speed up the rate of her bleeding, but she didn't care anymore. She ignored the excruciating pain, only focused on her child, seeing their face, holding them… in only a moment, she'd managed to pull it free, the tiny shoulders slipping away quickly once the head had passed through. Her vision was going dark as she pulled the infant up to her chest.

For a moment she was terrified that it had already died, and she looked it over frantically - it was a son, her _son,_ and almost as though prompted by the feeling of her fingers on his cheek he let out a loud, hearty wail. She wanted to cry from her utter relief, bringing him closer to her so that she could see him better, trying to make out his features through the blackness of the night and her quickly fading sight. He was _beautiful_.

His hair was still wet from birthing fluids, but she could see that it was silver and would be downy soft once it had dried. His skin was a deep, rich olive like his father's, his tiny, fisted hands tipped in even smaller claws. The fuzzy, triangular ears on top of his head were a little startling - they were a sign of his mixed heritage, and in an instant she loved them, too. This was the child she'd made and carried for three seasons, that she had been willing to give up everything for. Even now, as she bled out, Izayoi felt like her life had been worth something as long as it meant this precious creature had been created.

She felt the earth shake, and the screaming of Takamaru's soldiers outside, but beyond that there was simply darkness - and then, nothing.

o0o

Izayoi wasn't sure how long she spent in the nothingness, only that it was peaceful and endless. Vaguely she knew that it was _death_ , but it wasn't cold or frightening. It felt warm, like a loving embrace.

The only problem was that she wanted to go back to her newborn son, knowing that she needed to feed him and hold him or it wouldn't be long before death took him, too. Almost in answer to her desire to return she felt the oppressive nothing lift, felt sensation returning to her body - though not the same pain as before. She sucked in a harsh breath, opening her eyes to see her baby, still squealing and writhing. For a moment she could only blink at him, watching his fists flail passionately and his small, red face wrinkle in displeasure. He was safe, and she was alive. Her eyes watered from love, emotion, the smoke in the air - smoke?

"Izayoi."

She turned her head, following the sound of Togao's voice until she saw him. For a beautiful, brief second she was lost in his eyes, drawn in by the endless, ageless gold depth of them. But then she saw blood, dark crimson on his left arm and his side, streaked across his throat and creeping up into his hair. She tried to tell herself that there was no way it was all his, but he wavered as he pulled a bright red cloth from his armor and threw it over her. He was dizzy, his hands a little shaky as he helped her hold their son, as he helped her sit up.

"Dearest," she breathed. "Dearest, you're hurt."

"I know. I know, but I had to come. You're alive now, that's all that matters."

"What's… what's going on?"

He didn't speak, but reached forward and neatly severed the last connection between her and the child with his claws, and then his lips were at her temple. It was so gentle that she wondered if she was imagining it, but then she saw his opposite hand come up to the baby's face. His fingers were unbelievably soft over the child's cheek, tenderness in his eyes that she'd never seen before, not even for her. It was over before she knew it, the moment broken by the sound of someone's footsteps.

Togao stood and she followed, peering around him to see Takemaru, panting, enrobed by flames and holding up his sword. Izayoi felt her blood run cold when she saw how badly he was injured, his whole left arm missing. Togao drew the sword from his back - So'unga, hell's blade - and he held it out in front of her defensively.

"I have no regrets, since I'm fighting you. Let us journey together to the netherworld!" Takemaru spat, voice seething with hatred.

"Live," Togao told her, not even turning his head to look back at her. He was preparing to fight.

"Dearest?"

"Inuyasha," her husband growled, to her utter confusion.

"What?" Takemaru asked, equally confused. It almost seemed like a nonsense word.

"Inuyasha," he repeated, and now Izayoi realized that he was talking to _her._ "The infant's name. The infant will be named Inuyasha."

Izayoi looked down at her crying child. _Inuyasha._ She repeated it to herself, connecting everything together until it clicked into place. He was Inuyasha, a child of the Nanase clan, the son of the Inu no Taisho.

She felt the heat of the burning fires around her, but she couldn't bring herself to move, reluctant to leave Togao's side even for a moment.

"Now _go_."

This, too, was meant for her. She hesitated, knowing deep down in the core of her what it meant for her to go. She heard it in the crack of his voice, the way he choked on the words - this battle would have no survivors. There was nothing that she could do now, not while the beams cracked and groaned above her, not while the heat and the thick, sticky smoke threatened to suffocate her newborn.

It hurt to leave him behind, more than the pain of death itself. But he had brought her back, and she would not waste what he'd given her, not when he'd risked his own life for hers and their child's.

"Yes," she replied, shakily, before she turned and tried to force her legs to move.

She took the quickest path out that she could remember, ignoring the dead and injured men in the courtyard, ignoring the cold snow on her bare feet, just trying to get into the forest before the mansion collapsed. On higher ground, she turned and looked down just as it fell, imploding in a shower of sparks and dark smoke. It was as though her heart couldn't bear anymore - she felt nothing as her childhood home disappeared into ash, as it took all of the lives still inside of it.

There was nothing but the snow and her screaming son.

o0o

Izayoi wasn't sure when she'd fallen asleep. She was laying against the bark of a tree, too tired to walk anymore, the red robe under her laid down to keep the snow from seeping into her clothes. It did a miraculous job of it, made of some strange material that seemed mostly indestructible. All she remembered was rocking Inuyasha in her arms, nursing him until he was quiet and sleepy, and holding him as tightly as she could to keep out the chill. The forest had protected them both through the night, as though it felt sorry for her.

Now it rained, unseasonably warm, and the snow began to melt. She saw the mansion in ruins down below, and then startled when she felt a wee pain in her neck.

"My lady?"

"Myoga."

She couldn't even look at him. She heard more footsteps, and turned her head to see a rather odd looking old man on a three eyed ox. He regarded her with huge, bulging eyes, blinking at her.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Nanase Izayoi," she said quietly, and slowly, like she couldn't remember her own name.

"This is the woman, then," the old man said, and Myoga jumped frantically on her shoulder. "She's a good bit more delicate than I imagined her."

"I assure you, Totosai, this is her!"

"What do you mean, Myoga-san?" she asked, voice still low and soft. Inuyasha squirmed in her arms.

"This is the swordsmith, Totosai," he explained, still looking frantic. "An old friend of the master, like me."

"And you're the woman the Inu no Taisho was always telling me about," the yokai called Totosai said. "He hardly ever let me get a word in edgewise."

Suddenly, memories of the night before fell upon her like an anvil, crushing her heart. She hadn't wanted to wake the baby, but as her arms quivered and her chest shook she knew it would be inevitable. Tears of grief started to well, to pour, and before she knew it she was weeping openly in front of them both.

"Oh, dear," Totosai said sympathetically. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head, trying desperately to contain herself, tired of crying, tired of everything, but unable to stop. This powerlessness was so exhausting. Her life had changed so brutally in so little time.

"I don't know you very well," Totosai said, suddenly. "But I suspect you're here for the same reason we are."

"He... he saved our lives and then he… I begged him not to come. It was a trap," she gasped, trying to breathe. "He knew he was going to die and he came for me anyway."

"I see. It would fit him to die that way, that melodramatic moron."

She laughed, even though it was a bitter sound to her own ears. There was still some comfort to be gained from meeting this person who'd known her husband for so long. It meant that she wasn't the only one who would be grieving.

"Ah, Saya is waiting for us," Totosai said, more to Myoga than to her. "Izayoi, you said your name was?"

"Yes."

"Do you have anywhere to stay?"

"No, that… well, it _was_ my home."

"Hm. I don't know if I can be very helpful to you, but Mo-Mo might."

He slid off of the ox, gesturing for her to get onto it. She hesitated, but it was probably her only real chance of getting to a safer place, and she felt like walking would only make her feel worse at this point. Carefully, and with a little help, she was seated, clutching a now wailing Inuyasha to her breast.

"I don't know where you're headed. If you tell Mo-Mo then you'll find it eventually. And don't worry about him, he'll come back to me when he's done."

"Why are you… I mean, thank you so much, but why are you doing this for me?"

"What sort of friends would we be if we let the Inu no Taisho's wife and newborn child fend for themselves? Doesn't really matter that you're human, if that's what you're asking me."

She felt a real smile on her face, warmth in her heart where she thought it might have been vacant for a long time to come.

"Thank you," she said gratefully, bowing her head in respect. "Thank you so much."

Myoga had hopped down and onto Totosai now, big tears in his buggy little eyes as he wished Izayoi well and saw her off.

She would just have to hope she and Inuyasha made it to the Matsushita mansion unharmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edited as of 6/18/17)


	15. Chapter 14

Mo-Mo was a decidedly odd creature, but that was really the least of Izayoi's worries. The demon ox seemed to know instinctively where it was meant to go without prompting; this was a blessing, because Izayoi was too busy clutching at its back and holding Inuyasha tight to think about directions.

He seemed so frighteningly small to her, tiny and fragile. She had never felt anything like what washed over her as they travelled, the urge to keep him sheltered and safe in her arms, to keep all harm from him. It struck her that this was what Togao must have felt for her.

Her eyes welled up with tears yet again.

It was hard to wrap her head around him being gone, around everything that had happened. She felt like her insides had been hollowed out and replaced with ice when she tried to make sense of it - he had died for her sake, given his life up to give her a chance to escape with their son. She would never see him again, never feel his arms around her or hear the sound of his laughter. All of her dreams for their future were ripped away and replaced with bleak uncertainty and fear. Their son would never know his father, would never have anything of him but his red robe and the blood in his veins.

It was almost impossible to understand how she could experience such love and such grief at the same time. She adored Inuyasha - he was innocent and simple, only ruled by his need to sleep and eat and be cuddled. In some strange way, knowing that he needed her propelled her onward into the unknown. Izayoi was still afraid; but she was not some silly, spoiled girl. She was a woman, a princess, and a mother. She had chosen this path for herself and had survived against the odds.

Togao had always said he loved her for her stubbornness and her strength. She would not let him down.

o0o

The Matsushita mansion seemed larger and more intimidating than ever before. Izayoi knew that entering through the front gates with a demon ox and a baby would likely cause an uproar in town, so she told Mo-Mo to set her down at the back instead. It faced off with a large, crystal clear lake; the sun was just beginning to set when she arrived, and it lit the water on fire. She carefully slid off the ox's back onto the wet rocks and chilly, dead grass - her feet were nearly numb from cold, but it still sent a chill racing up her spine.

"Thank you," she whispered to the ox, bowing her head. "You've helped me a lot."

Mo-Mo blinked at her and huffed gently, turning around to clop away. She was alone now, and would have to face her family.

"Who goes there?" one of the sentries called as she approached. He and his partner both gripped at their spears and for a moment, Izayoi felt a bolt of terror run through her.

"Nanase Izayoi," she replied shakily, keeping her distance. "My mother and father are supposed to be here."

"As in… the Lord and Lady Nanase's daughter?" he asked, as though he didn't quite believe her. "I thought she was…"

The other guard nudged him, shooting him a glare. They both regarded her suspiciously; she knew she must have looked terrible, unclean and wild with a baby in her arms, but she could worry about that later.

"Ask Ayako, if you don't believe me," Izayoi said suddenly, and again they looked at each other, leaning in to whisper amongst themselves.

"Very well," one said as the other left to go find her. "If you really are the princess, she'll know."

Izayoi waited, trying to calm her rising irritation, but after a few moments the second sentry reappeared with her cousin and a handmaiden in tow.

Ayako looked at her, her hands coming to her mouth and tears filling her eyes suddenly. The world stood still around them.

"Cousin," she breathed, to the clear surprise of the guards. "We were all afraid you were… that you might not return to us."

Izayoi but her lip, heart aching. She wondered how much Ayako had been told. The younger cousin stepped forward, her eyes on the infant - the sentries began to protest but she lifted a hand to silence them.

"You told me you were pregnant," Ayako said under her breath, tenderly. "By the demon I met last autumn, but… somehow it never seemed to quite sink in."

"It does seem strange, doesn't it?" Izayoi replied, shifted Inuyasha in her arms so she could see his face better. "He's only a day old. I'm his mother and I can barely believe that he's finally here."

Ayako touched his soft cheek, her fingers light and her eyes filled with wonder. "What's his name?"

"Inuyasha."

She wrinkled her nose, and then laughed in a short burst. "Odd name!"

"His father chose it," Izayoi replied, her voice suddenly seeming distant even to her own ears.

Comprehension seemed to be dawning in Ayako's eyes; Izayoi would not be here if her husband was alive, or if she had somewhere else to go.

"Your parents said nothing about the child," she explained. "The only reason I knew was because you'd told me yourself… and I think there were rumors going around, but nothing anyone could prove. When they arrived here my mother and father were told that you were in great danger, and that Setsuna no Takemaru had you in his care."

Izayoi felt anger spike through her. "They lied."

"I knew it didn't add up," Ayako said quietly, understanding. "And they were vague about the danger you were in… it was either a curse or a spell or something. All we were told was that it would be dealt with, and that if everything went according to plan Takemaru-sama would give notice and they'd be on their way. The servants were speculating wildly about it yesterday."

"I'll tell you what happened," she managed past the growing thickness in her chest and throat. "They wanted to kill the Inu no Taisho, so they left me with Takemaru and his men and… used me as bait to lure him out."

"That seems so cruel," Ayako replied, voice no more than a whisper. "You could have been killed-"

"I nearly was," she went on. "It feels almost like a dream? At some point after Inuyasha was born I lost consciousness and when I came back, the Inu no Taisho was with me and the whole mansion was on fire."

"What!?" Ayako cried, before clamping a hand over her mouth. "Why?"

"I don't know. I think they must have fought… when Takemaru found us he was missing an arm and was going on about fighting to the death. There wasn't time to make sense of it. I left before the mansion finally collapsed."

"But that means…"

"They're dead," Izayoi breathed. "Both of them."

She bowed her head, determined to stay in control of the grief that washed over her, but as Ayako's arms wrapped around her shoulders she couldn't help herself. Izayoi laid her head against her cousin's shoulder, and a cracking, tired sob ripped from her throat.

"It happened so quickly," she whimpered, voice muffled and weak. "There is nowhere left for me to go."

"Shh," Ayako replied soothingly, stroking her hands over her hair. "Come inside and get warm, and eat, and rest."

"There's something I have to do first," Izayoi said, pulling back and setting her face sternly. "I need to speak to our parents."

Ayako must have recognized the look on her face, the familiar fire and stubbornness in it. Izayoi wouldn't rest until she'd done what she'd come to do.

"Follow me, then."

Together they passed through the archway into the mansion's grounds, crossing the threshold into the lush rear gardens - now sleeping and gray in preparation for winter - and following the familiar wooden pathways that crisscrossed over manmade streams and ponds. Ayako walked quickly and purposely, waving off anyone who protested or stopped to stare at them.

When they finally reached the largest, center room of the mansion, she walked in without bowing. A flurry of cries rang out from shocked ladies in waiting, and finally, from her family themselves.

"Daughter?"

Her mother rose, sitting up on her knees before she was drawn to her feet, holding her hands over her mouth. Izayoi looked away, unwilling to become emotional again - she needed to stay calm for this. Instead, she looked to her father, ghostly white and looking nearly ill, and channeled every last bit of residual anger and hatred.

 _Remember_ , she told herself,  _that this is the man who left you for dead._

"Chichi-ue."

"Izayoi."

"You said… how is she here?" her aunt Tomiko asked, but she was silenced quickly by a nervous glance from her sister. The Lord of the house looked only mildly interested, in contrast to everyone else.

"Izayoi," her father went on, "I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you safe."

"Like hell you are," she spat, ignoring the way her mother winced. "Did you know the kind of danger you were leaving me in, or did you just not care?"

"Please, you must understand my intentions-"

"What about Takemaru?" she went on, glaring accusingly. "You knew that he and his men had no chance, that it would be a certain death…"

"It was a risk he was willing to take! He loved you!"

"He  _wanted_ me, he didn't love me. His jealousy blinded him completely," she replied, the blood in her veins burning. "You misjudged him, chichi-ue. The mansion is gone - he must have ordered them to set fire to it, with me still inside. Do you understand? He wanted me to die!"

Lord Nanase gaped at her for a moment and shook his head. "He never would have-"

"He did, and the Inu no Taisho was furious and exacted revenge for it," she went on, her eyes now stinging with angry tears. "The only reason I am alive before you is because  _he_ saved me."

"Izayoi, please, calm yourself-"

" _I refuse to be silenced!_ "

Inuyasha began to make small sounds of unhappiness in her arms, fisting and unfisting his little hands in displeasure.

"What is the meaning of this?" her uncle asked, leaning forward slightly.

"This is my son," Izayoi said, clear as a bell. "He is the Inu no Taisho's child."

"The demon's?" her aunt said, disbelieving. "Dear gods, Izayoi, what have you done?"

Ayako still stood next to her, touching her elbow and nodding for her to explain. Her presence was the only comfort in the room save for the baby, all of the warmth centered around the the three of them. Izayoi felt like if she erred too far away from it, she'd lose her will.

"I will not be ashamed of myself," she replied, her head high. "I won't ask for forgiveness, either. I conceived and bore his child willingly."

"You are condemned," her uncle replied. "You have committed an act of treason against the gods, against nature, and against your family. Why have you returned to us?"

"The Nanase clan has no home, and no children left but me and my son. I came because I had no other choice."

Lord Matsushita laughed, throwing his head back and laughing himself hysterical. His wife and in-laws watched him nervously, like they were waiting for him to snap and bite. At last he calmed down, his face red and the vein in his neck throbbing - Izayoi realized that he was not laughing in amusement. It was as though a mask had been pulled from his face, revealing a spectre beneath the cool and noble exterior.

"Why would we let you stay under our roof?" he asked, pointing at Inuyasha. "I have tolerated my wife's family, despite your low birth, and I may have even welcomed you in like a daughter under the right circumstances. But why now, when you have brought a curse into this home?"

He was asking her to convince him. Izayoi set herself like a stone where she stood, remembering how she had done this before - over and over, she had made deals and swayed stronger wills than her own.

"My beloved was more powerful than you can even imagine," she told him, starting slowly. "Do you really think that his death is the end of his legacy? You must know the old legends about dog gods - they are vengeful creatures and their loyalty extends even into the afterlife. Do you really,  _truly_ believe that he would not punish you for leaving his wife and newborn child to fend for themselves?"

Her uncle paused, looking it over. She knew that she was teetering at the edge of some great abyss, and that with one shove he could doom her completely to homelessness and death. Izayoi was bluffing; she had no proof that Togao could know what happened to her, or that such an afterlife even existed. But it was all she had to bargain with.

Lady Nanase spoke suddenly, her voice gentle but firm.

"Please, my lord," she pleaded. "What Izayoi says must be true. We believed that killing the Inu no Taisho would break whatever… enchantment our daughter was under, but I can see now that even in death he holds power over her."

Lord Matsushita frowned, looking at Izayoi as though he was trying to make sense of her. Eventually he sighed.

"Very well. You may stay with us - but there are conditions."

"I'll hear them."

"You are no longer our family. You will not eat with us, sleep with us, or speak to us unless it is absolutely necessary. The half-breed is not to be seen by guests or important company - this is an act of mercy and good will. I promise you that nobody else would hesitate to kick you out."

She nodded, biting her lip. It stung deeply, but she would cry and mourn later, when she was alone.

"Are we in agreement? Good," he said loftily. "Then you are dismissed."

Izayoi felt the hand of a servant grip her arm, pulling her away from them - as she left she heard the room break into argument. Ayako's voice was the loudest, shrill over the din.

"You will stay in the northernmost wing, miss," the servant said quietly after they had been walking for a few moments. "Everything else will be arranged in a few days."

"Thank you," Izayoi replied, ducking her head as she walked into one of the unused rooms. The servant darted off immediately, as though she were afraid of her.

Izayoi slumped against the wall, her heart racing. She needed to get warm, and Inuyasha was hungry and crying, but the hardest part was over and done with.

It was as though her words hadn't been her own; she didn't know how she'd been able to convince them to let her stay or how she'd managed to find the strength to speak. Her voice had reminded her of Togao's somehow, the calm, commanding tone she'd heard him use before. It had been as though he  _could_ see her, that he'd reached out his own hand and guiding her through the worst of it.

"Thank you," she breathed, smiling despite the tears that rolled down her cheeks. "Thank you, dearest."

o0o

Life at the Matsushita mansion was a blessing and a curse in equal measures.

Izayoi learned that Natsuki and Chiyo had both been dismissed almost as soon as the Lord and Lady Nanase had first arrived, by the Lady herself - the rumors were that she didn't want their chances at future employment damaged by proxy to this scandal. Natsuki had taken the opportunity and left, but Chiyo begged and begged to be allowed to stay. She ended up back in Izayoi's company, her only servant, and even if things could never be like they were before it was good to have some familiarity. It was jarring to see her alone and not being overshadowed by Natsuki and Nodoka.

It dawned on Izayoi belatedly that Nodoka had never returned to join her family - and the woman had been too loyal to simply leave without notice. She was hit with unexpectedly intense grief as she realized that her old nursemaid must have perished when the mansion collapsed.

Nodoka, like all of the men serving Takemaru, had been collateral to Izayoi's mistakes. Chiyo seemed to know the kindest way to deal with it, somehow, even without speaking - the girl sat with her in the mornings and combed Izayoi's hair out, and if she ever saw Izayoi crying she politely pretended not to see. She only handed her a square of linen cloth, gently asking her to wipe her eyes in preparation for the day's makeup. It was clear that it was her own way of saying she was sorry for the older woman's loss.

Eventually, Izayoi was given new clothing. It was a nicer set than the one she had owned in her own home, even though it was only a drop in the immense wealth the Matsushita clan possessed. Her room was beautifully decorated, every hall was polished and glorious, and the food was richer and more elaborate than anything she was used to. But it didn't change the fact that she was living in confinement.

The only member of her family willing to spend any length of time around her and her son was Ayako. The lord and lady very definitely did not approve of it, knowing how similar the two girls were - they were obviously afraid their own daughter would be taken by Izayoi's stories and enchanted into ruin. But even if they'd outright forbid it, Ayako would sneak in early in the morning and late at night, or whenever she got a moment away from prying eyes. They sat together and talked for hours, about everything and anything.

The company was worth it's weight in gold. Ayako took a particular interest in Inuyasha, chirping and cooing and fussing over him whenever she visited, tweaking his fuzzy ears and holding him whenever she got the chance to. It was reassuring to know that somebody else loved him, too.

The first few months of his life were made just the littlest bit easier by having Ayako around, and Izayoi was grateful for it. Their friendship had only deepened and grown, despite the rules that the lord and lady had imposed - neither girl had ever been very good at following rules, anyway. But Ayako was young, beautiful, and of marrying age. Her parents were more anxious than ever to keep Izayoi from influencing her, terrified that she'd follow the same path as her cousin. Without a word of warning to her, the lord and lady arranged for her to be married to a wealthy lord who lived near the capital, many miles away from Musashi's plains.

Ayako stumbled into Izayoi's chambers that afternoon, the letter of his intention clutched in her hand and tears streaking down her face.

"I've never even met him," she sobbed, crumpling before her shocked cousin. "And I'm not his first wife, either! He's had two before and both died… I wonder if he did it out of anger or if he's so horrible they offed themselves…"

"Slow down," Izayoi said, holding onto her upper arms carefully. "There are a hundred other reasons they might have died."

"I don't care! What could he possibly need me for? He has children already, perfectly good grown heirs-"

"Maybe he's lonely," she replied, rubbing the other girl's arms and speaking softly. "I know it seems frightening to you now, but there's no reason to believe that he's cruel until you've met him yourself."

"I know what you're thinking," Ayako gasped, beginning to hyperventilate. "You think that maybe I'll come to like him, that I'll get lucky and fall in love. But you're wrong. I could never love a man who took me away from you!"

At that, she flung herself into her older cousin's arms, her tears soaking Izayoi's collar. She held her as she cried, her own eyes blurring. She blinked to dispel them - she didn't need Ayako to know how much it hurt her to think of her leaving forever.

"It'll be okay, Aya-chan," she whispered soothingly, affectionately. "You can still write to me. Even if you're far away, I will still be here and I'll still love you."

"What am I supposed to do without you? You're the only person I've ever looked up to this much," Ayako whimpered, clinging to her like a small child. "We were children together and now you're a mother. Now I'm going away to become someone's wife."

"We grew up," Izayoi replied, her voice choked. "We just grew up."

"Why did it have to happen so quickly?"

Izayoi shook her head, wrapping back up in another long embrace. The answer escaped her.

Later, as she sat on the veranda and nursed Inuyasha it came to her. She had grown up because she had needed to, because she had wanted to be the kind of woman she believed Togao had deserved. They had molded and shaped each other into better people; he, more open and kind, and she more patient and selfless.

She did not feel like the person she was before they'd met. She could hardly remember herself, the foolish, naive girl she'd once been.

Inuyasha pulled away from her breast suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts. He looked up at her with sleepy eyes, his little belly full and his mouth pulling into a dazed smile. She had to smile back at him, her heart warm as his tiny fingers curled into her chest. For a moment she was glad to coo at him, to forget her worries. Inuyasha was only half a year old, and would still be small and needy for a while, but Izayoi knew it wouldn't be like this forever. He'd already grown from a newborn into a fat, sweet baby in only the blink of an eye. Someday he'd be a child, and then at last he'd be a man - and at the thought she felt an ache inside of her.

Her mother had been right, when she had told her - a lifetime ago, it seemed - that she would understand the love and bittersweetness of watching a child grow. Izayoi tried to put it from her mind, folding the front of her kimono closed again and propping the baby up on her shoulder so she could pat him.

She watched the sun fall below the horizon, rubbing her son's back and singing to him as she did.

The rest of the week passed too quickly. Ayako was kept from Izayoi by wedding preparations, and in only the space of a few days she was gone. The night before her departure she crept into Izayoi's chamber, and the women shared stories and laughed together like they had when they were young girls - until finally, as dawn threatened to break, Ayako laid her head down into Izayoi's lap and cried until she was nearly sick.

"How will I live?" she gasped, shaking as her cousin drew her fingers through her hair. "How will I live knowing I may never see you again?"

"Someday, you will," Izayoi said sweetly, even though she couldn't be sure herself.

Ayako sat up, opening her mouth to speak, but footsteps outside the door told her that it was time to be taken away. Instead, she kissed Izayoi's hand and took a deep breath.

"I won't ever forget you," she said, determined. "Not even if we never meet again in this lifetime."

The door slid open, to a host of servants, including the headservant who looked down disapprovingly at Izayoi and Inuyasha. And then Ayako was taken away from her, gone in just seconds.

For the first few months after she left, Izayoi waited for a letter, a sign, anything - but nothing ever came. She didn't know if it was because she hadn't had the time to write, or if the letters were stopped; but in her heart she knew it couldn't be because Ayako's feelings had changed. They were being kept apart on purpose.

Izayoi would have mourned, but she didn't have the time to anymore. Inuyasha was growing fast, changing before her very eyes from a helpless baby into a chubby cheeked toddler. He was quick to learn to stand, and quicker to run - Izayoi barely caught a moment's rest, but she was grateful for it. He kept her so busy that she almost didn't think about all that had passed.

He looked like his father, but he was her son in all other ways; as he grew and his personality formed, she could see that he was stubborn, precocious, and tender hearted. The similarities between her and her son were more clear on nights where the moon was new - an unusual quirk of half demon children seemed to be that they turned human for a short time each month, always in a regular schedule. His first transformation had been shocking and upsetting for her - when she looked down at her baby and saw that he was different she was almost not sure it was her own. It took a moment for his features to register in her mind as belonging to him, his gold eyes and bright silver hair having turned black like hers, his hands stubby and blunt, two seashell pink ears on the sides of his head.

Inuyasha was a child of the Nanase's, on those nights. He could have almost passed for a little brother, or a cousin. Izayoi's own cousins had children, varying in age, but the oldest of them was only about five - the whole lot of them seemed less afraid of Inuyasha on his human nights, and would venture to her quarter to ask to play with him.

But she would always refuse. It was just as well; the young Matsushita lordlings always caught their children, and gave them the same, stern warning - hanyo were dangerous, and Inuyasha was the worst kind of filth.

It made her mourn for her little son's future, that his flesh and blood could reject him so hatefully. Prejudice was a learned trait - eventually the other children's natural curiosity and innocence was replaced with scorn and dismissal.

Inuyasha was still too small to know what was happening, so much of it was lost on him. After all, his mother loved him, and she spent all of her time looking after him - but Izayoi knew that someday he would understand, and she dreaded it.

Her loneliness felt like it was growing, like a beast that had taken up residence inside of her. She missed her mother, and her father, despite everything that they had done and despite the fact that they were so close by. Chiyo was a kind companion, but she was quiet and there was so much Izayoi could not say to her. She felt distant from the past that had brought her here; the memories of her joy and wonder all faded in her mind, the sound of someone's voice saying her name in love and not anger or fear.

And then, Myoga visited unexpectedly, right after Inuyasha's second birthday. She noticed him just after she had soothed her son to sleep, standing in front of her where she sat cross legged with Inuyasha cuddled up in her arms.

"Izayoi-sama," he greeted her. "It is so good to see you again."

She noticed that he had a small, round pack tied to his back, a tiny staff in hand and a hat for traveling. She might have marveled at the size of them, but she was more concerned that it had been so long without hearing from him.

"Myoga," she said gently, smiling. "I've missed you."

"My lady!" he replied. "There is so much to discuss!"

He bounced up onto Inuyasha's cheek, looking down at him adoringly. The boy sniffed in his sleep, face twitching at the sensation of Myoga sitting on it.

"He looks… so much like the late master," he said, somber. "I have news regarding this child. There is something that the Inu no Taisho had asked me to do."

Izayoi felt almost like hearing about him was the same as picking off a scab - it hurt, freshened the wounds when they weren't done healing. Still, she nodded for Myoga to continue.

"His will was that your child should have Tessaiga," he explained, folding his hands together. "To protect himself from his own demon blood. But I've come to give you a warning as well."

"What is it?" she breathed.

"The master's firstborn son, Sesshomaru, wants the sword for himself. They had argued about it before his death… even though the master left him Tenseiga," he said, breaking his solemn speech for a moment to roll his eyes. "The master knew he would try to find Tessaiga and take it from Inuyasha. That's why I have come."

"Where is the sword?"

Myoga pulled the pack off, unwrapping the little square of cloth to reveal a small, black bead. It almost looked like a mix between a pearl and a piece of glass, buffed until it shone. There was something nearly otherworldly about the glow it threw off, even in the dim light of her room.

"This is the master's final resting place," he said, as she took it into her hand. It felt heavy in her hand, far heavier than it should have. "And inside of his tomb, the sword is waiting for Inuyasha-sama."

Izayoi shook her head, bewildered. She didn't know how he could possibly have done this, but then, there were many things she didn't understand. She folded her fingers around it, strangely comforted - it felt good to have another piece of him, even if it was his grave.

"There's one more thing," Myoga said, tapping his hands together nervously. "The master wanted it hidden, but he didn't specify where, even to me. I suppose he didn't trust me to keep his secrets."

"I'm sure he did," Izayoi laughed quietly. "But you and I both know how mysterious he was."

Myoga sighed, and shrugged. "I believe he told Totosai, but… as far as I know, Totosai has been too busy running away from Sesshomaru to pay you a visit. Until he does, protect that black pearl as best as you can!"

"Of course," she replied, her fist wrapping tighter around it.

"And… if Sesshomaru finds you," he explained, voice dropping as though he was telling a very grave secret. "Lie to him. Pretend you don't know where it is. The master entrusted this final task to you alone."

Izayoi was startled by the instructions, wondering how bad it would really be if Sesshomaru found his father's tomb, but she trusted Myoga's word. She nodded, and then took a deep breath.

"My lady?" Myoga asked, noticing the way her shoulders had dropped and her eyes had become distant.

"I'm sorry, Myoga-san," she said. "It's been so long since I've heard anyone talk about him. Nobody here dares to bring him up."

"But you miss him, don't you?"

"More than I can bear, sometimes," she admitted. "You knew him longer than I did, I know."

"Ah," Myoga hummed, understanding. "You think you aren't entitled to your grief?"

She nodded, her throat closing up. "I'm not allowed to talk about him," she managed. "They think he was a heartless monster, that he had me under a spell and that I'm still enchanted by him. But he was… he was kinder than almost anyone I've ever known, human or not."

Myoga watched her as her head dropped and her eyes traced the curves of her sleeping son's face.

"I've heard people say that demon and human hearts are different," she whispered. "I don't believe it at all."

Myoga moved to pat her hand, his small voice sympathetic and kind. "The master loved you very much, my lady," he said. "No matter what kind of heart he had."

Inuyasha stirred and it caused Myoga to startle a little, tightening his grip on the tiny walking stick in his hand.

"I'll be back," he told her. "I'm not much for company, but-"

"Oh, no! It is good to see you," she said hastily. "It would please me very much if you returned."

"Of course! Totosai will come by sometime… hopefully soon," he explained, perching himself on the tip of Inuyasha's nose. "He will give you the rest of the instructions. Farewell, my lady!"

Myoga bounded away, leaving her with a lot to think about.

The first thing, Totosai and the black pearl, was soon taken care of. She had barely woken up the next morning when she heard the sound of mooing outside of her room. She thought she was having some kind of absurd dream, until it got louder and more insistent. Izayoi extracted herself from her sleeping toddler, clutching her robe tightly as she walked over and slid the door open.

Three large, baleful eyes met her at face level, and Totosai piped up with a cheery "Good morning!"

"Heavens," she whispered. "When did you get here?"

"Oh, only a moment ago," the old demon said, sliding down from the ox's back. "Let's go inside, I have something I have to do."

Izayoi ducked her head, letting him in - and shooing Mo-Mo for trying to follow him into her room.

"Forgive the mess," she said, her face heating up. "Inuyasha's favorite pastime is tearing up the floors, I'm afraid."

"He's really got dog in him," Totosai laughed, casting a look over at the sleeping toddler, whose legs and nose were twitching in his sleep. "I wonder if he ever dreams about chasing rabbits."

Izayoi frowned unhappily, but when Totosai noticed he held up his hands.

"I didn't mean anything by it!" he told her. "Every dog demon I've ever met does things like that, even the full-blooded ones."

"It's alright," she sighed. "I'm just used to being a bit defensive, I suppose."

"I don't blame you," the demon muttered, and then he seemed to remember what he had come for. "Do you have the black pearl?"

Izayoi nodded, pulling it from her sleeve - she had slept with it in her possession, just in case - and she held it out for Totosai to see.

"Hm, good. I'm going to ask you to do something very strange."

"What is it?"

"Go hold the boy down," he told her, "and try to keep him quiet. He's not going to like this, but it won't hurt him."

"What?" she asked, suddenly nervous. "What is it?"

"The Inu no Taisho wanted this thing to be hidden completely," he explained, walking over and crouching down next to the child. "He wanted it up be so well hidden, that even the person who protected it couldn't see it. Of course, he didn't tell Myoga, because Myoga has the world's biggest mouth. But he did tell me."

She settled down beside Inuyasha as well, gently collecting him into her arms. He cracked an eye and looked up at her blearily, a little whimper coming from his lips.

"Shh," she soothed, stroking his ear. "Totosai, where are you going to put it?"

"In his eye."

Izayoi clutched him to her chest on a reflex, earning another whimper as he burrowed his face into her chest.

" _What?_ " she hissed, eyes wide. "Why?"

"So that nobody can find the sword, of course," Totosai said, as though he was explaining it for the hundredth time. "Nobody but Inuyasha, when the time is right. At that point I will tell him everything he needs to know."

"How will he get it out?" she went on, almost ignoring him completely. "How will you know when he's ready? How did my husband fit a grave  _and_ a sword into something the size of a  _pea_ -"

"It's demon magic, you silly girl!" he said, amused. "You sure do ask a lot of questions!"

She bit her lip, frowning. "If it was his will… then…"

"Good. Now let me see his face."

She turned him carefully, pulling him away. He was awake now, displeased and cranky.

"Mama," he whined, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and Izayoi patted his bottom and hummed sweetly to him. Then, quickly and firmly, Totosai pulled his right eyelid open and pressed the little stone against his eyeball.

Izayoi winced, and Inuyasha tried to squirm away from the pressure, but she held him still. There was a small wave of yoki, and then the pearl seemed to almost dissolve, disappearing.

"All done!" Totosai said in a strange imitation of baby-talk. She wondered if it was for Inuyasha's benefit or hers. "The master can rest safely for now."

Inuyasha was nearly halfway across the room once Izayoi loosened her grip on him, already wide awake and ready to put the little ordeal behind him.

"So it begins," she laughed, watching him tear around the perimeter of the room, tumbling over himself and somersaulting as he went.

"He's got a lot of energy, this one," Totosai said, standing up. "Good luck."

"Thank you," Izayoi replied, bowing her head politely even as Inuyasha whooped and hollered behind her.

When Totosai was gone, she felt relieved. It was one less thing to worry about in the long run, and it was comforting to know that at least a handful of people were willing to help her and her son - even if it was only because they had once served her husband.

Still, she couldn't shake her anxiety about Sesshomaru. She wished she knew what he was thinking, or when he might arrive - she was cautious enough to know that even if he was Inuyasha's older brother, he would likely not be helpful or kind. Inuyasha had been given something he wanted for himself, and Togao had made it clear to her that the boy disapproved of his father's decision to have children with a human woman. The demon side of Inuyasha's family would be no more accepting of him than the human side.

Still, she couldn't be sure what to expect. Inuyasha crashed headfirst into a bureau, and she put it out of her mind completely.

o0o

It was later in the year when disaster struck for a second time, somewhere between late summer and fall. Had Izayoi been paying more attention to the passage of time, she would have noticed that it happened on the morning of her twenty-third birthday.

She was woken up by screams and wailing, loud and dramatic and at least a few of them theatric, but they were interspersed with real cries of agony and despair. Immediately she rose, her mind going into a blind panic until she spotted Inuyasha standing at the door, having flung it open, his ears ticked forward and every line in his little body tight with anxiety.

"Come away from door, love," she called nervously, clutching her robe shut. Inuyasha wavered but didn't budge one way or another, either to run away or to her. She sighed, recognizing him as being frozen stiff and upset from all of the noise, and she knelt next to him and made to close the shoji herself.

The sight of a figure among the busy servants and wailing courtiers caught her eye, even in the pre-dawn darkness. Her mother had not visited this wing of the castle for years, and Izayoi's stomach lurched with something like dread, an instinctual understanding that something had gone terribly wrong. Their eyes caught one another's, and her mother's face crumpled in pain.

"No," Izayoi whispered to herself, even as her mother came to her, pale as a ghost and still unadorned. "No."

"Izayoi," Lady Nanase greeted, for the first time in two years. Her voice cracked, and she knelt before her daughter and wept openly.

Izayoi had never seen her mother cry this way, had never seen her wracked with sobs, and had barely ever seen her unmade up and looking so tired and so old. Inuyasha hated the noise and grasped at Izayoi, burying his hands in the folds of her clothing and whining under his breath.

"My child," she gasped, barely audible over the din. "The Lord Nanase has died."

It hit her like a blow, knocking the air from her lungs and she was sent reeling, staring at her mother. Izayoi had not seen her father for those two years, either, except in hallways and outside in the courtyards and gardens. Every time, they had looked away from each other, the bitterness and distance growing in her heart until she was sure she no longer knew him. But she had never expected him to die.

"What… what happened?" she finally managed, after an unbearable moment. "He never looked ill."

"He was gone when I woke up. His heart stopped in his sleep," her mother explained. "I can't imagine… I don't understand…"

She lowered her head, her pale, small hands coming to cover her face in shame - she'd clearly not meant to display her grief so openly, only to relay the message. Faced with each other again, Izayoi felt an indescribably powerful longing to reach out and comfort her. She remembered that they were not supposed to be family anymore, that her uncle's conditions had been strict and clear, that her mother and father were only allowed to stay if they followed them too. She had tried not to wonder if they missed her as much as she missed them.

Now she found she couldn't stop wondering. "Why are you here?"

Lady Nanase looked up at her, her eyes wide. She dropped her hands back into her lap.

"I had to tell you before someone else did," she admitted, and then like a cork pulled from a bottle everything started to spill out of her. "I know the rules. I am grateful to my honorable brother and sister for their charity, but my loyalty is to your father's memory above anyone else's. You need to know what he has done for you."

Izayoi shook her head, unable to imagine what she could mean. "Haha-ue he… he hated me-"

"No!" she interrupted, her eyes passionate, filled with a sternness that Izayoi was unused to. "He fought tooth and nail for you to stay. Lord Matsushita first brought it up on the child's hundredth day, that he was going to send you both away, but your father argued with him."

"I didn't know," she whispered, shaking her head. "Why did he…?"

"They were always arguing with each other, over whether you should stay or leave. I hadn't seen him so angry since his own father had been alive - it pained us both that you should be alone, but better alone than dead-"

"That can't be true!" Izayoi shot back, her voice high and thin. "He sent my husband  _and_ Takemaru to their deaths, and intended to send my child to his!"

"He wanted to kill the demon, Izayoi, but never you. Don't you understand the danger you're in, even now? It is not  _normal_ to bear a demon's child and live, and your father was one of the last things that stood in the way of a total revolt. The servants… the servants talk, and the guards talk, and even my dear sister talks about your death as though it would be a blessed relief."

Izayoi gasped, pulling her son in too tightly without realizing, until his sharp claws dug into her arms in surprise. Blood trickled down her wrists.

"They talk about his," her mother said, face pained, pointing at Inuyasha. "What defense does a child have against a castle of servants and soldiers?"

A wave of anger crashed over Izayoi, intense and blinding, and she stood suddenly, nearly toppling her son in the process.

"Haha-ue!" he cried in alarm, frightened. She looked down at her mother, eyes flashing, her night clothes dotted with crimson.

"You may threaten my life, but I would die before anyone took his!" she shouted. "He is more precious to me than any living creature on this earth and in all of the heavens, and I will go down kicking and screaming if I have to!"

"I'm not here to threaten you, I'm here to warn you," her mother shouted back. "Can you not see that we are standing in the same place?"

Izayoi stopped, her breathing heavy and her heart beating fast. It came to her all at once.

Her mother had just lost her husband, her beloved, who she'd known and lived with for decades - and now, despite the great risk it posed to her own wellbeing, she had come to her daughter to protect her. Izayoi had done the same, and would do it over and over if she had to.

"By the gods," she groaned, anger flagging. "I am so foolish."

"You are only protecting him, I know. I won't ask for forgiveness for the years of loneliness you have endured, but I- there must be some way for me to put your father's soul at ease."

"I can't… there is so much you have missed already, haha-ue," Izayoi said, her heart beginning to ache. She sank back down, and Inuyasha flung himself into her arms, crying simply from all the excitement. She scratched behind his ears, soothing him. "There is so much you don't know about me."

The Lady looked her over, and nodded, and to Izayoi's surprise she leaned forward and took her hand. It was warm and soft, the touch bringing a wellspring of sadness and relief.

"I have missed you," Izayoi said, biting her lip. "I have been angry with you, and with chichi-ue, but now I will never be able to say anything to him again, not even in anger."

She took a steadying breath - years ago she might have cried, but there was no impulse to, only deep, gnawing hurt.

"I won't let you slip away like he did. You have to know that this will be painful."

"Child, better pain than nothing at all."

Izayoi wanted to speak, but a call from a mansion guard broke her voice. Lady Nanase stood quickly, ready to flee - but before she left she stopped, a tiny, faint smile in her eyes. "I will return to you in the evening, without fail." Then, like a ghost, she disappeared.

There was a burgeoning hope in Izayoi, one which she'd believed was long dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edited as of 7/24/17)


	16. Chapter 15

For two short, blessed years, Izayoi was reunited with her mother. The healing had occurred between them slowly at first, and carefully; Lady Nanase was still cautious of her brother-in-law's rules and took great pains not to be caught visiting Izayoi and Inuyasha. She only came in the early mornings, before anyone was awake, spending those few hours before the sun had risen to get to know her daughter and grandson all over again. She was an expert at creeping about; it hit Izayoi that she must have gotten her sneakiness from her, and that Lady Nanase hadn't ever let on how similar the two really were.

"I always suspected you," she hummed one morning, holding a dozing Inuyasha in her arms and fussing with his hair and ears. "I knew something was going to happen, right when you got engaged."

"What does that mean?" Izayoi laughed, crossing her legs under her.

"You were never the sort of child who liked to do things the way you were meant to. Telling you to behave was like lighting a flame," Lady Nanase went on, smirking. "I thought that when you'd finally found a suitor you liked, you wouldn't wait around for a proper wedding. I was almost willing to bet on it! I can't say I was even the littlest bit surprised when you fell pregnant."

"Nobody seemed to be that surprised," Izayoi grumbled, rolling her eyes. "Nodoka scarcely batted an eye when she discovered it."

Lady Nanase's face grew soft, and Izayoi felt a stirring in her chest - they both missed the old maid, even now, when it had been so long since her death.

"We couldn't have guessed at the whole truth," Lady Nanase sighed, looking down at the child in her lap. "Never in a hundred years would I have imagined… but that is beyond us now, isn't it?"

Izayoi was silent for a moment, watching the two of them. Her mother was gentle, rocking backwards and forwards slightly and resting a hand over the little boy's heart. She'd come in early enough that he was still sleeping, as she always did, but today he'd awoken with such a startle that Izayoi could only assume he'd been having a nightmare. When she couldn't get him to stop crying her mother had taken him, scooping him right out of Izayoi's arms and singing under her breath until he stopped. Inuyasha had stared at his grandmother, eyelids drooping ever lower, until he was finally sleeping again.

"Could you ever love Inuyasha as though he were human?"

"He is my grandchild, after all, I should think so. As strange as he looks, he behaves no differently than you did as a small child," Lady Nanase replied. "What brought that on?"

"I'm so afraid that he won't be loved, that I've damned him," Izayoi whispered, her throat tight. "Every decision I had made relied on his father being alive and well, but now that he's gone I can see how cruel it was to think I could protect our son from harm."

"Those are every mother's fears," Lady Nanase told her. "It would be impossible to protect him from everything, but you can still love him with all of your heart and that may see him through."

Izayoi thought it would never cease to frighten her, the idea that she couldn't keep him safe. But she looked at him asleep in his grandmother's arms, her clear affection, and it helped her get on and survive the fear for a little longer.

o0o

Inuyasha, for his part, had grown into a delightful little terror, strong and agile and ripping around the hallways at top speed, where he might sing at the top of his lungs or hang from the decorative wooden beams of the outside pathways. Inevitably, Izayoi lost sight of him now and then - but she'd always find him safe and sound. He was also becoming too clever to keep up with at times, precociously aware of the world around him. He noticed things no other child could have: the chatter of animals, the sound of distant thunderstorms before they'd crept in close enough for human ears to detect. He complained sometimes of prickles up his spine, a passing feeling of energy. Inuyasha was only four, and already he knew what yoki felt like.

Izayoi supposed that it meant there were demons prowling outside the castle walls. Her mind always returned to Myoga and Totosai, but not simply the thought that it may be them. They had warned her to expect a different, far more dangerous visitor.

On a quiet afternoon, she heard him shouting from outside the back gate. It wasn't his normal joyous, childish noises - it was tainted with fear and the smallest hint of a defensive, inhuman growl. She picked up her skirts and ran to him, just in time to watch a pale figure appear before him like a specter. Instinctively, her heart caught in her throat and she dove towards her son, pulling him close and sheltering him. Only when he was bodily protected from danger did she bother to look up.

It was not a human, that much was clear immediately. It couldn't have been; Inuyasha had sensed danger before danger had arrived, and with a sinking feeling Izayoi realized that if he hadn't her son might have been lost to her.

The phantom appeared to be a man, but not one older than his teens - he had a young, soft face, elegant and feminine. Over the slopes of each cheek were reddish stripes, a crescent moon marking his forehead.

Izayoi was surprised that it had taken so long for Togao's oldest son to find them. In fact, she had been dreading this day for nearly two years and had begun to hope it would never come. But there was no mistaking the long, silver hair and ageless gold eyes.

"You must be this wretched creature's mother," he said pointedly. "Nobody else would rush to defend such filth."

Her spine prickled in anger, and Inuyasha absorbed it, his throat rumbling with a tiny growl. She held him closer, stroking her hand over his back to calm him down.

Izayoi wanted desperately to stand up for her child, to snap bright and hot with her typical stubbornness - but she bit her tongue. This boy was angry and looking for something her son had, and she was the only thing standing in his way. She wasn't stupid enough to think that he wouldn't kill her for interfering.

"I am," she replied lightly, voice thin. "You must be Togao's son."

His lovely face turned, a grimace flashing across his lips. But more curiously, there was a sudden pain in his eyes, one he was quick to disguise. It was replaced with a sneer.

"You debase his memory by using his name so freely," he told her. "My father was not addressed by his name."

Izayoi frowned, the picture of this young man coming together in her brain. She knew he disapproved of his father's choice, and he clearly disliked her - her natural desire was to tell him that she  _did_ address Togao by name because he had loved her and trusted her, but all at once she decided that she needed to take a different course of action.

He would be asking about the Inu no Taisho's resting place. Izayoi suspected that Sesshomaru was too clever to believe her if she told him that despite her importance to his father, he didn't tell her where it would be hidden.

Instead, she would have to feign total naivety. He didn't seem to believe in human intelligence or resilience the way his father had, so there was a chance it might work.

"You  _are_ his son," she replied, faking awe.

"You have something that belongs to me," he said, nearly agitated. "Or, rather, the whelp does."

"I do not!" Inuyasha piped up, his head peeking up from over his mother's sleeves. "I don't even know you."

"Oh? What a shame," Sesshomaru hummed, tilting his head. "Did nobody ever tell you that you had an older brother?"

Though the words themselves were not unkind, his voice was unfriendly.  _Mocking_. Dread settled heavily in Izayoi's stomach, eating her from the inside.

"I didn't think we would ever meet," she lied carefully. "I didn't think we'd be important enough to find."

"You aren't," he said blandly. "My father's sword is."

"Which one? He had three."

Sesshomaru looked at her like she was a speck of dirt on his clothing, and again Inuyasha squirmed.

"Why would papa give me a sword?" he asked, nose wrinkling. "I don't want any swords."

"If you continue to be unhelpful, woman, I  _will_  get the information out of you somehow," Sesshomaru said, ignoring Inuyasha's protests - but Izayoi saw his face change painfully again at the word  _papa._ His fingers flexed, claws brandished dangerously at his side. "Maybe the child could be convinced to tell me."

"Oh, no!" she cried without meaning to. "He knows nothing! I beg you, please don't hurt him!"

"You're wasting my time."

"If I had anything to tell you, I would," she pleaded. "He never told me, I- I didn't ask, and all of those sorts of things just went over my head anyway…"

Another lie - it felt like a disgrace to his memory, an insult to their bond to act this way, but she wasn't too proud to pretend if she thought it might make Sesshomaru search elsewhere.

"Useless," he scoffed. "I can't begin to fathom why he would die for someone like you."

Izayoi could feel herself beginning to shake, trembling all over with distress, but he paid her no mind. Inuyasha managed to pull apart from her grip enough to level a look at his older brother, filled with as much indignation as possible for upsetting his mother. Without warning another growl ripped from his throat, one that sounded out of place in a four year old.

Sesshomaru met his eyes, attention caught, before recognition flickered across his expression. The moment passed quickly, but when it was over Izayoi knew what he must have seen.

Inuyasha had his father's eyes.

"If I find out you've lied to me, I will kill you both."

Izayoi nodded quickly, hoping that she conveyed appropriate fear and humility instead of the burning, fierce anger that razed her insides. The truth seemed to beat against her ribs, desperate to get free - it cut her like a knife to conceal it, but she gritted her teeth to keep it in.

"You have my word, Sesshomaru-sama," she managed in her most courtly voice. Beside her she could almost hear the barrage of questions building in Inuyasha's throat, but she held him still and close - he knew that it meant he must stay quiet until his brother had departed.

He turned and leapt, lighter than the air itself as he floated away from them both. Izayoi released a long, deep breath, physically slumping where she knelt on the ground.

"Haha-ue?" Inuyasha asked as soon as she loosened her grip on him. "Why did he think I had his sword?"

She frowned, unsure what to tell him - but decided he'd be safer if he didn't know. "I'm not sure."

"Why did he talk to you that way?" he went on, his fists curling at his side. "Why did he say those things?"

"He's only angry, my love," she sighed, standing slowly and shaking the grass from her robes. "He is angry that his father is dead and he needs someone to blame for it."

"But it wasn't your fault?"

Izayoi paused, worrying her lip between her teeth. She had often considered that - perhaps if Togao had not needed to rush to her side, if he had not been distracted in his fight with Ryukotsusei, if his allies had not known that he'd committed the ultimate taboo and had married a human…

But he had, and what was done was done.

"No, Inuyasha, and it wasn't your fault either."

He didn't seem relieved or satisfied with that answer, and he clutched a handful of her hakama and peered up at her with a strange, almost adult expression.

"Does he not like us for the same reason that Auntie and Uncle and all of the cousins don't like us?"

She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat; though Inuyasha had no name for the prejudice he experienced, and no idea of how deeply it ran, he knew it existed. His only knowledge of true kinship was Izayoi herself, and what little affection her mother was allowed to show.

"It's hard to say," she lied, deciding all at once that she must make up even more for what was lacking in his life. "Your brother is very strange."

She swept in to pick him up, smiling as he sputtered and kicked his limbs.

"I'm a big boy, put me down!" he cried, but it was mixed with laughter and a tinge of relief. Izayoi pressed a big, wet kiss to his cheek, relishing the softness of it, how he was still round with baby fat.

"Do big boys not kiss their mothers?" she asked, pretending to sound hurt. "Do big boys not need their mamas anymore?"

He turned a stern glare on her, rosebud-lipped mouth pouting, but she laughed and the spell was broken. He burrowed into her neck, his arms wrapped about her tightly. The little episode with Sesshomaru would soon be forgotten by him, and though Izayoi was afraid he would return there was nothing else she could do about it. She held him like a lifeline, feeling his solid, heavy warmth, letting it banish the chill in her heart.

As long as Inuyasha was with her, she was determined that he would be safe.

o0o

Eventually Sesshomaru's visit was only a memory, the cold eyes and crescent moon on his forehead only a blurry, half remembered thing that came to her in nightmares or in the hazy thoughts of early morning. When a year had passed without his return, Izayoi finally felt like she could breath freely again. There were more present concerns to be dealt with.

Not the smallest of these was a rather tenacious cold that had been making the rounds of the mansion. It was mild at first, but it stuck too long in the servants lungs and made them tired and weak. Suddenly it became clear that it wasn't a simple cold at all, but something more threatening - the illness could drag for months in a person, killing them slowly and painfully. People were drowning in their own breath, it seemed, coughing and never clearing their chests.

It didn't kill everyone that was inflicted, of course, but it was frightening, and Izayoi was suddenly  _grateful_ for her isolation. Lady Nanase sent a note that she was no longer able to visit, and Izayoi assumed it was simply a matter of quarantining them for safety.

In a month, her mother was dead.

Izayoi bore the news with a blank face as Chiyo explained it to her tearfully, telling her that the Lord and Lady Matsushita had been with her at her passing but asked that Izayoi please refrain from attending to the body or any of the funerary preparations. Since she was no longer family, she was told, it really wouldn't be appropriate. And, of course, Izayoi nodded at the girl, thanked her for doing her duty and then dismissed her. The rest of the day passed in a fog.

She cried herself hoarse sometime after midnight, choking on sobs until it was nearly morning again. As the sun rose, she realized that her grief was not going to help her - something still worse was coming.

The death of her mother signalled an immediate change in the mansion's behaviors towards Izayoi; without her sister to appeal to, Aunt Tomiko became withdrawn and even more avoidant of her niece. It was clear that her uncle wanted as little to do with them as possible.

"The child is a bad omen," she overheard him say once as she passed through a garden walkway, when he thought she was unable to hear. "I have been gracious to your sister's family, but this must end before someone else dies. The hanyo is only bringing more bad luck down upon us."

"I know, but it's still my sister's grandchild. Izayoi… Izayoi was a good girl, don't you remember? Ayako always loved her so…"

"Your niece gave up the wellbeing of her family and herself the moment she decided to carry a yokai's spawn. My patience grows thin. I don't wish to discuss this further with you."

Izayoi knew without a single doubt that it was only by her aunt's will that they were allowed to stay, and though she tried desperately not to show it to Inuyasha, he knew intuitively when something wasn't right. She paced the garden grounds at night, away from him after he'd been put to bed, trying to clear the fog of anxiety that stuck all over her so that he wouldn't worry, too. But even then he sometimes crept out to find her, like he was tethered to her and afraid to let go for even a moment.

The only thing that was powerful enough to distract him thus far had been his aunts and uncles playing a game of kemari. She saw it from afar - an older cousin tossed the ball, and Inuyasha followed it right over to where she was.

"Haha-ue!" he cried when he saw her standing there, the ball forgotten suddenly, abandoned as he ran to her. She smiled despite herself, until he spoke again.

"Haha-ue, what's a hanyo?"

The word crashed against her ears like breaking glass, everything overwhelming her all at once. Inuyasha would know now what the name was for his condition, exactly why the family he'd been born into loathed and feared him - and though Izayoi had known it would come, she'd deluded herself into thinking she might have just a little longer. His eyes were honest, round and golden as he stared up at her, the question still ringing in the air. She knew him, and that he would have to learn or he'd never be satisfied - and she'd have to be the one who broke his heart with the truth.

She couldn't help it, and dropped to her knees, pulling him tightly against her.

"Not tonight," Izayoi whispered thickly, through her tears. "In the morning, I'll tell you. Can you wait until then?"

She pulled back to see him nod, his face written over with confusion and concern - she had been so careful never to cry in front of him, and it had disturbed him to see it. Izayoi swallowed and tried to smile reassuringly.

It held him over until the sun had risen, but after that he would not wait any longer. She took his small hand in hers and walked with him along the long, wooden paths that wound about over the koi pond. They sat, her large sleeves covering him like a barrier against the outside world, protecting him from the clammy, early morning chill.

"Do you know how children are born?" she finally asked, waiting until he'd quit wiggling around in her lap.

"A mother and a father make one, don't they?" he guessed, stretching his bare feet out in front of him. "And then an egg hatches if it's a bird, or sometimes if it's a cat they come out of the mama's butt."

Izayoi choked, snorting at his estimation of childbirth. "You've seen kittens being born?"

"Uh-huh!"

"That's not a butt, sweetheart it's… something else," she explained, trying to get back on topic before she got in over her head. "But the thing about babies - of all kinds, whether it's a bird or a cat or you - is that they are usually the same kind of animal as their parents are."

"Oh. Okay," he said, his lips pursing. "So if a bird and a cat have a baby it's a cat-bird?"

"Birds and cats can't have babies," she laughed.

"Why?"

"They're too different! Birds have wings, and two feet, and feathers. Cats have fur and claws and can't fly," she tried, simplifying it as much as she could. "But sometimes, two things that are different can have babies together… if they are almost the same."

"What does  _that_  mean?" Inuyasha asked, growing impatient to have the answers he wanted.

"Well… sometimes a wolf and a dog can have babies. And a horse and a donkey can, too," she said, waiting for his reaction.

"Because wolves and dogs have four feet and long teeth, and horses and donkeys both smell bad and poop everywhere?"

"Yes!" Izayoi said quickly, before he could once again derail her. "Do you remember what your older brother looked like?"

"He looked like me, I think. I don't really remember him."

"Demons can sometimes look like humans. There are some differences, but they have the same parts. Five fingers and five toes," she said, reaching forward to wiggle her own fingers in front of him. "Two arms, and two legs, and faces like a human has."

Inuyasha was quiet, the lesson beginning to sink in.

"Your father was a demon," she told him softly. "And I'm a human."

Inuyasha was silent for a moment, watching the dragonflies zooming over the surface of the water.

"Am I none of those, or am I both?"

It was an odd question, one she hadn't expected him to ask. She shifted, trying to think of how to explain the complications of being a hanyo to a five year old. If Togao had been alive, perhaps he might have had the answer.

"Let's see," she started, her brows furrowing. "You have claws like he did, and sharp teeth. But you have no skin markings, and sometimes you have black hair like mine."

"Oh, so I'm both?"

"Yes, but you are also something else," she added. "Every child is their own person, not just half of each parent. There's nobody exactly like you in the whole world."

"And that's bad," he concluded, nodding his head as though he suddenly understood it. "That's why all the aunts and uncles and cousins hate me."

Izayoi could feel his anger, his sadness - and worst of all, resignation. She was determined that her son should never hate himself, as long as she was still around to draw breath.

"They are afraid of anything different, Inuyasha, but there is nothing about you that's bad or wrong. You're  _special_ , and someday you may be able to do things that no regular human or demon could even dream of, all because of who you are."

Inuyasha mulled it over, looking down at his hands against his mother's. Izayoi tried to see what he saw, the way his claws pointed and her fingers rounded off instead. He might not believe her now, and she had no proof to offer him.

But something told her, a whisper in the back of her head, that he would be unlike anything the world had ever seen before.

o0o

The disease that had killed Lady Nanase returned the next autumn, as though it had only been dormant and waiting for the right chance to kill again.

Izayoi felt her heart nearly stop when Inuyasha came to her in a coughing fit one evening. He was sniffly, irritated, and utterly miserable, rubbing constantly at his nose until it was raw and dry. She slept fitfully that night, waking up every hour or so to make sure he was still breathing - and of course, every time, he was.  _It's only a cold_ , she repeated to herself, over and over.  _It's just a little cold._ It did nothing to calm her down, the thought of losing her son as she'd lost her mother crushing the air out of her lungs. She couldn't go through it again.

Inuyasha woke up the next morning with a tear puffed face, his little nose now bright red from sneezes and stuffiness. She tried to remember every last remedy that she could think of, locked away in her memory, everything she'd written down in her book of sketches all those years ago. She hunted down dried liver and burdock root and ground it into some tea to help the flavor. And then, once it was brewed, she took it to him and told him he'd better drink every last drop.

"It smells."

"It'll make you feel better."

Inuyasha looked deeply incredulous, eying the cup and sniffing lightly. His ears flicked forward, drawn by a little hum of encouragement from her throat, and she struggled not to laugh as he crawled out from underneath his heavy woolen blanket and over to where she sat.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, Inuyasha. Come on, drink up."

And so he took the cup from her hands, tentatively sipping and then pulling an over-exaggerated grimace as he swallowed the liquid. Now Izayoi couldn't help a smile; Inuyasha was prone to his theatrics, always doing things with full vigor whether it was necessary or not. Once the cup was finally empty (after a certain amount of coaxing and bribes) he lay back down, his eyelids falling heavily. She smoothed her hand over his shoulders, patting gently to lull him into a nap.

"Haha-ue?"

"Yes, Inuyasha?"

"Thank you for the medicine, even if it tasted bad."

"You're welcome," she said, and drawn by the warmth of his little body curled up and sleepy, and her own exhaustion, she laid down next to him and fell asleep.

He was better before she knew it, his cold gone in only a matter of two days. The only problem was that now she was stuck with his cough, as though it had passed sneakily out of his body and into her hers. It wasn't terrible, and it didn't seem to cause her very much inconvenience for the most part, but she found sleeping increasingly difficult and her head hurt more often than not. It stuck with her, lingering in her chest for weeks where it should have cleared.

Inuyasha's birthday came and went. The wintertime began to lessen, and the cold receded. And still, she didn't seem to feel any better, still tired and aching and coughing when all she wanted was to feel better. Even as young as she was, she found it difficult to keep up with Inuyasha's near boundless energy. He dragged her along by her wrists, trying to goad her into playing with him. Izayoi tried, but every time she was forced to sit after only a few minutes or so, short of breath.

Chiyo had been helping her prepare for the day, running a comb through her hair and giving her a blessed morning dose of chatter and news from other parts of the castle, when Izayoi was overcome with another coughing fit. It was her worst one yet, so bad that she ended up hunched over and gripping the edge of her dressing table to keep from collapsing. It was alarming, certainly, but no more than that. The black spots in her vision would clear when the coughing stopped, and her throats would quit burning after an hour or two. It wasn't until she turned to Chiyo that she felt fear.

The girl's eyes were wide, her hand over her mouth in shock.

"My lady," she whispered, pulling a small cloth from her sleeve and handing it to Izayoi. When she dabbed her mouth and looked down, it was smeared with blood. Her heart stopped and restarted jerkily in her chest.

Izayoi realized that she would either fight it and live, or she would suffer a long, dragging death, and nothing in between. No matter what came, there would be pain ahead.

"Speak of this to nobody," she told Chiyo, who nodded quickly. "I don't want any trouble."

As the days passed, she felt it getting harder and harder to breathe, which made it harder to eat and sleep. Inuyasha picked up on it quickly, and where she expected him to ask his usual myriad of questions he became defensive and protective of her.

"Why are you following me like a little shadow?" she laughed, trying to cut the tension between them.

"Because, haha-ue, you're sick."

She frowned, realizing that he had once again been perceptive enough to know how dire things were, even without her telling him.

Sometime in late spring she felt something change. Izayoi had been maintaining some amount of optimism before, hopeful that she should recover fully and go about her life as normal - but then there was a downturn. She could barely sit up or even stand without wanting to lie back down, her vision going spotty when she moved too quickly.

There was no fighting it anymore. Everyday she coughed a little harder, and everyday she grew a little weaker. As badly as she wanted to ignore it, she couldn't.

"My love, do you know what death is?" she asked Inuyasha, catching him after he'd played all of his fidgetiness out one day.

"Sort of."

"Why don't you tell me what you know?"

"When things die, they go away, and you never see them again."

"That's close, I think," she said gently, watching his face carefully. He was already suspicious. "When someone dies, they leave the earth. You can't see them as long as you're still alive."

"The dead can't walk the earth?"

"Or at least they shouldn't."

"Haha-ue," he whispered, beginning to understand. "Why are you telling me about death?"

"I'm very, very sick, Inuyasha. Grandmother died, do you remember? She was sick too. It's possible that I might die as well."

"You can't!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with panic. "You can't go!"

"It's not something that people get to choose, my love. I would never go from you on purpose, I promise."

He sat very still, looking at her, watching her face. His dark brows furrowed, eyes filling with frightened tears as he took ahold of her sleeve and held onto it - as though he could keep her with him, somehow. Izayoi felt herself losing her tenuous grip on her composure, her own eyes beginning to blur. She blinked, trying to force herself to keep going.

"Inuyasha, if I die, you will likely have to look after yourself."

"But you won't."

"I will try to live," she continued, reaching to him to hold him close to her chest. He was warm and solid in her arms, grounding her, making her feel peaceful despite everything. "But if I don't, you are going to have to be brave."

"I don't wanna be brave," he whimpered into her clothing, his hands fisting tightly in the layers of silk. "I want you to stay with me."

"I know, I know," she said, whispering into his hair and rocking him a little. It was getting harder to control herself, trying not to sob, trying to breathe, to stay calm. "I want to stay with you, too. But if I go, there will be… there will be a lot of people who are going to try to hurt you. I know that I've always said to be polite to everyone you meet, but if anybody tries to harm you, run. If you can't run, strike back until you can."

"Why do you get to die and leave me behind?" he cried, shaking his head, refusing to accept it.

"You're too young! You have to live, Inuyasha," she replied, voice rising over his. "It would break my heart if you died."

He was inconsolable now, weeping bitterly and clinging to her. Her heart felt like it might shatter, watching her little son face an uncertain future, one she might not be there to see.

It took a long time for his tears to subside, a fresh batch coming every time he looked at her again. Izayoi sat and held him, rocking him like an infant in her arms, whispering softly to him that it would be alright, and when he did finally calm down he had cried himself into complete exhaustion and stillness, his fist still tight in her kimono.

"You will have to fight for your life," she whispered, almost more to herself than to him. "But no matter what anyone tells you, you deserve to live."

He looked up at her, breath deepening and slowing from its earlier hysterics.

"Do you know how much I loved you, before you were even born?" she asked, and he shook his head, relaxing even deeper into her. "More than anything in the world. You never met him, but your father loved you, too."

"What's so great about that?" he slurred tiredly.

"Love is the most powerful thing in the world," she went on. "It's stronger than any other feeling, even fear. It's what made your father so brave and powerful. Never, ever forget that you're his son."

"Why?" he asked again, curious even when he was only half awake.

"Don't forget that you're  _our_  son," she corrected, smiling down at him. "Remember what I told you. Someday you will do great things."

He rolled his eyes, but after that he was quiet, looking up at her as though she might vanish if he didn't. Izayoi wished she could stay there for the rest of her life, where talk of death could remain only hypothetical and her son could live peacefully.

But she knew from experience that no moment could last forever.

o0o

It was in the middle of the daytime when it finally happened. She didn't know how she felt it coming, just that she couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, and suddenly she was laying on the ground, unable to move at all because there was no strength to. She heard the shrieks of several servants all around her, the fast footsteps on the hardwood floors, and then the unmistakable  _scratch, patter_ of her son's feet. He dropped down in front of her, and she saw his mouth moving, and yet there was no sound to her ears.

All she could think of was how happy she was to see him, panicked though he may have been. She reached, her fingers finding his face and touching it gently. Izayoi tried to sound out the words for her affection, to tell him how much she loved him, how pleased she was that he was next to her.

Then, at last, there was nothing to say, see, or hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edited as of 9/8/17: I had no idea, in my wildest dreams, that I would edit this so extensively. I started this fic about 2 years ago and have not finished fussing over it since then, but I feel I've finally reached the point where I can look at it and really feel certain that this is the story I set out to tell.
> 
> I don't know how many people have reread this since finishing what I consider the "first draft", but to all those who have: thank you. To everyone who read this when I was still stumbling around and figuring it out, thank you. To everyone who reviewed, favorited, and commented... THANK YOU! This fanfiction was really such a huge project for me and a labor of love, and to know that people enjoyed it means the world to me.
> 
> Enough of my ranting, and on to the epilogue!)


	17. Epilogue

Sometimes, Izayoi wondered if she would have done anything differently. When the ice and snow bit at her bare feet and she clutched her terrified, crying newborn close to her chest, she wondered. While she suffered the pain and separation of her family's ostracization, she wondered. As her son grew and changed and understood that there were few in this world who loved him, she wondered.

The answer was the same each time: she wouldn't.

Izayoi considered that perhaps her soul had been saved, in a backwards sort of way. It had been a very selfish decision to love him, and even more selfish to act on that love. Maybe she was damned, like everyone said, for disobeying the gods and consorting with a demon.

But it had been him who had taught her to understand patience, and shame, and tenacity. She had learned to be a teacher to him as well - nobody had seen him so tender and unguarded as she had, his arrogance stripped and broken down, his heart suddenly open to her. That was the truth - she felt as though they both might have gone on believing the world revolved around them and all of their individual desires and plans. She might never have known herself to be fallible, mortal, just like he had ultimately been, if she'd never met him in that great old forest. So perhaps the gods had not been enraged or offended by their union; no, maybe they'd had a hand in it themselves.

This was what she contemplated as she left the earth, her body, and her son. Inuyasha was going to suffer, and that was the one thing she did regret - he deserved to grow up in a world that adored him and treated him kindly, and to have both of his parents to love him and teach him as much as they had loved and taught each other.

But it was out of her control now, in the murky blackness of death. Izayoi was only vaguely aware that she had died; there wasn't anything in front of her but oppressive, heavy nothingness. She wasn't sure how long she stayed that way. It could have been an eternity - but eventually, the heavy shroud of death was lifted away from her.

As it faded, she was left with something that appeared to her much like earth, if earth were pristine and completely untouched. Everything that had ever brought her joy was waiting for her: the sky tinged pink with perpetual sunset, clear water, the fragrance of innumerable flowers. And in the middle of it all, he waited.

"You weren't supposed to come yet," the familiar voice said. She hadn't heard his voice in so long, and to hear it now propelled her forward, over to him.

"I'm sorry," she replied. She felt as though she was crying, but nothing could be certain in this strange, dreamlike world. "I got sick. I never meant to come to you so soon."

In the span of only a few seconds - or perhaps, in hundreds of years - she was collected up into his arms, arms which felt like the ones she knew and loved and remembered, and he was holding her again. She must have been trembling all over. She must have been crying. Her fingers dug into him, feeling for proof, searching all over to make sure that he was truly in front of her. His eyes found hers and they were perfect, the exact gold that she had always loved.

"I missed you so much," he choked, and she knew, down to her very core, that this was her beloved.

"I missed you, too."

There had always been a common belief that humans and demons were doomed to a life apart, in which they could never hope to understand each other.

Izayoi knew that this was untrue. They had gone to their fates blind, but with immense love. They had braved their differences and found them fewer and smaller than they'd expected. This was the result - there was no doom here, in this perfect world, where their unburdened spirits were allowed to stay together.

The end, in fact, was the best part.


End file.
